Grimm's household tales : with the author's notes.

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GEIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES.

WITH THE AUTHOK'S NOTES

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TRANSLATED FROM THE GER31AN AND EDITED BY

MAEGAEET HUNT,

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WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

ANDKEW LANG, M.A,

IN TWO VOLUMES.— Vol. L

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LONDON: GEORGE BELL AND SONS, YORK STREET,

COVENT GARDEN.

1884.

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LONDON :
FEINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,

STAUFOBD STBEET AND OHABINO CBOeS.

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^ PREFACE.

There would seem to be very little need of a preface
to any book possessing the great advantage of an
Introduction from tlie pen of Mr. Andrew Lang, especially
when it is a book which has always been so jDopular in
this country that it has fully proved its right to the
name originally bestowed on it.

The reader may, however, like to know something
of its history as told by one of its authors in the preface
to the 2nd edition, which was published in 1819. The
first edition was in two volumes, the first of which ap-
peared in 1812. The brothers Grimm were thirteen years
in collecting the stories in this volume. They were
all picked up little by little from the lips of people living
in Hesse and Hanau, the districts best known to the authors.
The second volume was finished much more quickly : it was
ready in 1814. Chance favoured them, friends helped them,
but their best friend of all was the wife of a cow-herd living
in the village of Niederzwehrn, near Cassel, a woman of
about fifty, with intelligent and agreeable but somewhat
resolute features, large, bright penetrating eyes, and a
perfect genius for story- telling. " Her memory," Grimm
tells us, " kept a firm hold of all sagas. She herself
knew that this gift was not granted to every one, and
that there were many who could remember nothing
connectedly. She told her stories thoughtfully, accurately,
and with wonderful vividness, and evidently had a
delight in doing it. First, she related them from be-
ginning to end, and then, if required, repeated them more
slovdy, so that after some practice it was perfectly easy
to write from her dictation." '

a 2

it PKEFACE.

This is how the Brothers Grimm did write them ; much
that she said was taken down by them word by word
and its fidelity is unmistakable. They bear empnatic
witness to her ardent desire for accuracy. " Any one who
holds that tradition is so easily falsified and carelessly
preserved, that it is impossible for it to last for any length
of time, ought to have heard how close she always kept
to the story, and how zealous she was for its accuracy.
When repeating it she never altered smy part, and if she
made a mistake always corrected it herself immediately."

A large proportion of the stories in these volumes comes
from Hesse, which, as we are told, being a mountainous
country lying far away from the great main roads, and
with a population closely occupied in husbandry, is, of all
German nations, that which amid all Time's changes has
kept most fixedly to characteristic habits and customs.

The principle on which the Brothers Grimm worked
shall be given in their own words : " Our first aim in col-
lecting these stories has b&en exactness and truth. We
have added nothing of our own, have embellished no
incident or feature of the story, but have given its sub-
stance just as we ourselves received it. It will, of course,
be understood that the mode of telling and carrying out of
particular details is principally due to us, but we have
striven to retain everything that we knew to be charac-
teristic, that in this respect also we might leave the collec-
tion the many-sidedness of nature. For the rest, every one
engaged on a work of this kind will know that this cannot
be looked on as a careless or indifferent method of collection,
but that, on the contrary, a care and skill which can only be
gained by time are required to distinguish the version of
the story which is simpler, purer and yet more complete
in itself, from the falsified one. Whenever we found
that varying stories completed each other, and that no
contradictory parts had to be cut out before they could be
Joined together, we have given them as one, but when
they diff'ered, we have given the preference to that which
was the belter, and have kept the other for the notes.'
The authors express great regiet that in po many cases
they have been obliged to give the (stories in High-German,
which, though it has gained in clearness, has " lost in

PREFACE. V

flavour, and no longer has such a firm hold of the kernel
of the thing signified." Whenever it was possible they
have retained the patois of the district where they heard
the story, and their two volumes contain stories in ten
different dialects.

There have been several English translations of the
Household Tales, and yet this is, I believe, the first
which has aimed at presenting them precisely as given
by the Brothers Grimm. They wrote down every story
exactly as they heard it, and if some of its details chanced
to be somewhat coarse, or if sacred persons were occa-
sionally introduced with a daring familiarity, which to us
seems almost to amount to profanity, they did not soften
or omit these passages, for with them fidelity to tradition
was a duty which admitted of no compromise — they were
not providing amusement for children, but storing up
material for students of folk-lore. English translators
have, as is not unnatural, hitherto had children most in
their minds, and have thought it well to change the devil
of the German stories into a less offensive ogre or black
dwarf, and so on. In this translation I have endeavoured
to give the stories as they are in the German original,
and though I have slightly softened one or two passages,
have always respected the principle which was paramount
with the brothers Grimm themselves. The notes too are
now translated for the first time. I have been in some
difficulty about the spelling of proper names, but have tried
to adhere to that form of each name for which the authors
themselves showed the most preference. They adopt
several, and their spelling frequently differs from that
which is commonly received, and yet they are such
high authorities that it seems presumptuous to alter what
they thought right.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

1. The Feog-King, oe Ieon Heney .

2. Cat and Mouse in Paetneeship

3. OuE Lady's Chtld.

4. The Stoey of the Youth who went foeth to

•^TiAT Fear was.

5. The Wolf and the Seven Little Kids

6. Faithful John ....

7. The Good Baegain

8. The Wondeeful Musician

9. The Twelve Brothees .

10. The Pack of Kagamuffins .•

11. Beothee and Sister

12. Eapunzel .

13. The Three Little Men in the Wood

14. The Three Spinnees

15. Hansel and Geethel .

16. The Theee Snake-Leaves

17. The White Snake.

18. The Steaw, the Coal, and the Bean

19. The Fisherman and his Wife

20. The Valiant Little Tailor .

21. Cinderella . ...

22. The Riddle

--23. The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage

24. Mother Holle ....

25. The Seven Ravens . , .

26. Little Red-Cap ....

27. The Bremen Town-Musicians

28. The Singing Bone.

29. The Devil with the Three Golden Haies

30. The Louse and the Flea

31. The Girl without Hands •

32. Clever Hans ....

33. The Three Languages .

34. Clever Elsie ....

35. The Tailor in Heaven.

36. The Wishing-Table, the Gold-Ass, and the

THE Sack .....

37. Thumbling .....

38. The Wedding of Mrs. Fox ,

PAGE
1

4

" 7

learn

Cudgel in

Vlll

CONTENTS.

39. The Elves .

40. The Kobber Bridegeoom

41. Herr Korbes.

42. The Godfather

43. Frau Trude .

44. Godfather Death.

45. Thumbling as Journeyman

46. Fitcher's Bird

47. The Juniper-Tree

48. Old Sultan .

49. The Six Swans .

50. Little Briar-Kose

51. fundevogel .

52. King Thrushbeard

53. Little Snow- White

54. The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Horn

55. Rumpelstiltskin .

56. Sweetheart Roland

57. The Golden Bird .

58. The Dog and the Sparrow

59. Frederick and Catherine

60. The Two Brothers

61. The Little Peasant

62. The Queen Bee .

63. The Three Feathers

64. The Golden Goose

65. Allerleirauh

66. The Hare's Bride

67. The Twelve Huntsmen

68. The Thief and his Master

69. jorinda and joringel .

70. The Three Sons of Fortune

71. How Six Men got on in the World

72. The Wolf and the Man

73. The Wolf and the Fox

74. Gossip Wolf and the Fox ,

75. The Fox and the Cat .

76. The Pink ....

77. Clever Grethel .

78. The Old Man and his Grandson

79. The Water-Nix .

80. The Death of the Little Hen

81. Brother Lustig .

82. Gambling Hansel .

83. Hans in Luck

84. Hans Married

85. The Gold-Children

86. The Fox and the Geese
Notes

INTEODUCTIOK

HOUSEHOLD TALES;

THEIR OEIGIN, DIFFUSION, AND RELATIONS
TO THE HIGHER MYTHS.

By
ANDREW LANG.

ARGUMENT.

Problems suggested by the study of Household Tales.— The stories
consist ot few incidents, in many combinations —The tales are
widely distributed.— The incidents are often monstrous and in-
credible.—The incidents recur in Greek and Indian epics, and in
Lives of the Saints.— How are we to explain the Origin of House-
hold Tales, their Diffusion, their Relations to Epic Myths^—
Theories of the Diffusion of Tales.— Caution necessary in Examin-
ing Tales— Example : "The Wolf and Kids:" explanation of Sir
George Cox.— His Theory of the Diffusion of Household Tales.—
Common heritage of Aryan Race.— His Theory of the Ori^n of
the Tales from mental habits and linguistic ecc-ntricities of early
man. — Man was " animi&tic," vastly concerned about Phenomena of
day and year, and he was oblivious of the meaning of proverbial
and popular expressions.— Household Tales are chiefly myths of
day, night, summer winter, dawn, dew, sun, moon, wind, etc. This
theory criticised. — Scantiness of Evidence for early man's poetic
interest in Nature, and forgetfulness of meaning of language. Sir
George Cox's early men really savages. — Comtemporary savages
have not mental and linguistic habits ascribed to the early men. —
Difference between Sir George Cox's and Mr. Max Miiller's con-
ception of mythopoeie men. — The evidence of Anthropological
science negkcted. — Criticism of theory of "Polyonymy" and
" Oblivion." — Use of these processes in Sir George Cox's system. —
Illustrated by Myth of Jason.— Condemnations of the "Solar"
method quoted. — ^The criterioa of Mr. Max Miiller criticised. — The
story of " Frosch-Konig " as interpreted by Messrs. Cox and Muller. —
Sir George Cox's theory that the animals in fairy tales are derived
from linguistic confusions criticised. — Relations of Mdrchen to
myths examined. — Theory that Marchen are detritus of myths. —
Converse theory that myths are a younger form of Mdrchen. — A
Theory of the Origin of Household Tales stated.— The monstrous
incidents are survivals from savagery. — The Myths are Mdrchen
elaborated. — European Mdrchen hold a mean position between
savage tales and heroic myths. — Origin of this theory. — Nature of
evidence for savage Marchen and for savage ideas.— Defence of
trustworthiness of this evidence when careftilly handled. — State-
ment of chief savage ideas. — They reappear in savage and in civilised
Tales. — Examples given. — The Myth of Jason criticised according
to this Theory. — Summary. — Conclusion. — Notes.

INTEODUCTION.

By Andrew Lang.

Till shortly before the time of the Brothers Grimm
the stories which they gathered (^Kinder- und JSaus-
mdrcheri) had been either neglected by men of learning
or treated as mere curiosities. Many collections had
been made in Sanskrit, Arabic, Italian, French, but they
were made for literary, not scientific purposes. The
volumes of the Brothers Grimm following on several
other scientifi.c collections, and the notes of the Grimms
(now for the first time reproduced in English), showed
that popular tales deserved scientific study. The book of
the Grimms has been succeeded by researches made among
all Aryan peoples. We have tales from the Norse, French,
Breton, Gaelic, Welsh, Spanish, Scotch, Eomaic, Finnish,
Italian, in fact, the topic of Household Tales is almost ob-
scured by the abundance of material. Now the least careful
reader of these collections must notice certain facts which
constitute the problem of this branch of mythology.

In the first place the incidents, plots, and characters of
the tales are, in every Aryan country, almost identical.
Everywhere we find the legends of the ill-treated, but
ultimately successful younger daughter ; of the triumph-
ant youngest son ; of the false bride substituted for the
true ; of the giant's wife or daughter who elopes with the
adventurer, and of the giant's pursuit ; everywhere there
is the story about the wife who is forced by some

XU INTRODUCTION.

mysterious cause, to leave her husband, or of the husband
driven from his wife, a story which sometimes ends in
the reunion of the pair. The coincidences of this kind
are very numerous, and it soon becomes plain that most
Aryan Household Tales are the common possession of the
peoples which speak an Aryan language. It is also
manifest that the tales consist of but few incidents,
grouped together in a kaleidoscopic variety of arrange-
ments.

In the second place, it is remarked that the incidents of
household tales are of a monstrous, irrational, and unna-
tural character, answering to nothing in our experience.
All animate and inanimate nature is on an intellectual
level with man. Not only do beasts, birds, and fishes
talk, but they actually intermarry, or propose to inter-
marry, with human beings.

Queens are accused of giving births to puppies
and the charge is believed. Men and women are changed
into beasts. Inanimate objects, drops of blood, drops of
spittle, trees, rocks, are capable of speech. Cannibals are
as common in the role of the villain as solicitors and
baronets are in modem novels. Everything yields to the
spell of magical rhymes or incantations. People
descend to a very unchristian Hades, or home of the
dead. Familiar as these features of the Household
Tale have been to us all from childhood, they do excite
wonder when we reflect on the wide prevalence of ideas
so monstrous and crazy.

Thirdly, the student of mdrcJien soon notices that many
of the Household Tales have their counterparts in the
higher mythologies of the ancient civilised races, in
mediaeval romance and saintly legend. The adventure
of stealing the giant's daughter, and of the flight, occurs
in the myth of Jason and Medea, where the giant becomes
a wizard king. The tale of the substituted bride appears

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XIU

in the romance of Berthe aux grans pies. The successful
younger son was known to the Scythians. Peau d'Ane
became a saint of the Irish Church, and the " supplanted
bride " developed into St. Tryphine. The smith who
made hell too hot for him is Sisyphus in Greek. The
bride mysteriously severed from her lord in fairy tales,
is Urvasi in the Eig Veda. Thus it is clear that there is
some connection, however it is to be explained, between
Aryan household tales and the higher Aryan mythology.
The same plots and incidents are common to both myth
and mdrchen.

These three sets of obvious facts introduce us to the
three-fold problem of " storyology," of the science of
nursery tales.

The first discovery — that these tales among the most
widely severed Aryan peoples are the same in plot and
incident —leads us to inquire into the cause of this com-
munity of fable. How are we to explain the Diffusion of
Household Tales ?

The second feature we observed, namely, the crazy
" irrational," monstrous character of the incidents leads us
to ask, how did such incidents ever come to be invented,
and almost exclusively selected for the purpose of popular
fiction ? What, in fact, is the Origin of Household Tales ?

The third observation we made on the resemblances
between household tales and Greek and Vedic myths, and
mediasval romances, compels us to examine into the dela-
tions hettveen march en and the higher mythologies.

Taking these three topics in their order, we must first
look at what can be said as to the diffusion of Household
Tales, Why do people so far apart, so long severed by
space, and so widely different in language as Russians and
Celtic Highlanders, for example, possess the same household
stories ? There are three, or perhaps we should say four,
possible explanations. There is the theory of conscious

KIV INTRODUCTION.

borrowing. The Celts, it might be averred, read
Eussian folk tales and acclimatised them. The French
took their ideas from the modern Greeks. This hypothesis,
thus nakedly stated, may be at once dismissed. The
peasant class, which is the guardian of the ancient store of
legends, reads little, and travels scarcely at all. Allied to
the theory of borrowing, but not manifestly absurd, is the
theory of slow transmission. We may be as convinced as
Sir George Cox {Aryan Mythology, vol. i. 109), that the
Aryan peoples did not borrow consciouslj^ from each other.
We may agree with Mr. Max Miiller that " nursery tales
are generally the last things to be borrowed by one
nation from another" {CJiips, ii. 216). But we cannot
deny that " in the dark backward and abysm of Time," in
the unrecorded wanderings of Man, Household Tales may
have drifted from race to race. In the shadowy distance
of primitive commerce, amber and jade and slaves were
carried half across the world by the old trade-routes
and sacred ways. It is said that oriental jade is found in
Swiss lake-dwellings, and that an African trade cowry has
been discovered deep in a Cornish barrow. Folk tales
might well be scattered abroad in the same manner by
merchantmen gossiping over their Khan fires, by Sidonian
mariners chatting in the sounding loggia of an Homeric
house, by the slave dragged from his home and passed
from owner to owner across Africa or Europe, by the wife
who, according to primitive law, had to be choi*en from an
alien clan. Time past is very long, land has lain where the
sea roars now ; we know not how the ancestors of existing
races may have met and mixed before Memphis was founded,
or Babylon. Thus the hypothesis of the transmission of
Household Tales cannot absolutely be set aside as in every
case without possible foundation.

Before examining theories of the Diffusion and Origin
of Household Tales, and of their relations to the higher

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XV

mythologies, something must be said about the materials
we possess. A strict criticism of the collections of tales
offered to the inquirer, a strict avoidance of theory
founded on hasty analogies is needful. We must try to dis-
tinguish as far as possible what is ancient and essential,
from what is relatively modern and accidental in each
tale. We must set apart scientific and exact collections
from merely literary collections in which the traditional
element is dressed up for the sake of amusement.
Grimms' collection of Household Tales or Marchen is
among the earliest of those which were made for scientific
purposes. Sanskrit stories, Arab and Egyptian stories,
Italian stories, French stories, had been gathered long
before into the garners of Somadeva, The Thousand and
One Nights^ Straparola, the Queen of Navarre, Perrault,
and others. But to bring together popular narratives
merely to divert the reader is an aim which permits the
collector to alter and adorn his materials almost as much
as he pleases. Consequently the old compilations we
have named, however delightful as literature, must be
used with great caution for purposes of comparative
science. Modern touches, as will be seen, occur freely
even in such collections as the Grimms'. Science accepts
these narratives (when it can get them unadulterated) as
among the oldest productions of the human fancy, as
living evidence to the character of the early imaginative
faculty. But we must be quite certain that we do not
interpret late additions to the tales, as if these incidents
were of the primitive essence. An example of this error
may be taken from Grimms' Legend (No. 5), " The
Wolf and the Kids." Here a wolf deceives seven little
kids, and eats them all except the youngest, who hides
(like the hero of one of M. Fortune du Boisgobey's
novels) " in the clock-case." The bereaved old she-goat
comes home ; finds that only the youngest kid survives,

XVI INTRODUCTION.

and goes in quest of the wolf. The wolf is found asleep :
the old goat cuts him open, and out frisk all the little
kids. They then fill the wolf's stomach with stones, and
sew up the orifice they had made. When the wolf
awakens he is thirsty, and goes to drink, but the heavy
stones make him lose his balance, he falls into the well,
and is drowned.

Here the essential idea is probably nothing more than
the fashioning of a comic story of a weak beast's victory
over a strong beast. Similar stories are frequent among
the Negroes and Bushmen (see Block's Beynard the Fox in
South Africa, and Uncle Bemus), among the Ked Indians,*
and, generally, among uncivilised peoples.

A story in some ways like that of the '* Wolf and the
Kids," is common among the negroes of Georgia. In a
Kaffir tale (Theal) the arts of the wolf are attributed to a
cannibal. Apparently the tale (as the negroes tell it) is
of African origin, and is not borrowed from the whites.
Old Mrs. Sow had five little pigs, whom she warned
against the machinations of Brer Wolf. Old Mrs. Sow
died, and each little pig built a house for itself. The
youngest pig built the strongest house. Brer Wolf, by a
series of stratagems, which may be compared to those in
Grimms' Mdrchen, entrapped and devoured the four elder
pigs. The youngest pig was the wisest, and would not
let Brer Wolf come in by the door. He had to enter by
way of the chimney, fell into a great fire the youngest
pig had lighted, and was burnt to death. Here we have
only to note the cunning of the wolf, and his final defeat
by the youngest of the pig family, who, as in almost all
household tales, is wiser and more successful than his
elder brethren. In the same way Grimms' youngest kid
was the kid that escaped from the wolf.

* In his Originedes Romans,lInei, the learned Bishop of Avranches,
(1630-1720), mentions ihe Iroquois Tales of Beavers, Kacoons, and
Wojves.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XVll

The incident on which the revenge turns, the swallow-
ing of the victims and their escape alive, though missing
in the negro version, is of almost universal occurrence.

It is found in Australia, in Greece it has made its way
into the legend of Cronus, in Brittany into the legend of
Gargantua. Callaway's collection gives us Zulu ex-
amples : in America it is familiar to the Indians of the
Korth, and to those of British Guiana. Grimm gives
some German variants in his note; Bleek's Bushman
Folklore contains several examples of the incident.
The Mintiras of Malay have introduced the conception of
swallowing and disgorging alive into a myth, which
explains the movements of sun, moon, and stars. (Tylor's
Primitive Culture, i. 338, 356).

In the tale of the Wolf and the Seven Kids, then, the
essence is found in the tricks whereby the wolf deceives
his victims ; in the victory of the goat, in the disgorging of
the kids alive, and the punishment of the wolf (as of
Cronus in Hesiod) by the stone which he is obliged to
admit into his system. In these events there is nothing
allegorical or mystical, no reference to sunrise or storms.
The crude ideas and incidents are of world-wide ranee,
and suit the fancy of the most backward barbarians.
But what is clearly modern in Grimm's tale is the
introduction of the clock-case. That, obviously, cannot
be older than the common use of tall clocks. If, then, we
interpret the tale by regarding the clock-case as its
essential feature, surely we mistake a late and civilised
accident for the essence of an ancient and barbarous
legend. Sir G. W. Cox lays much stress (Aryan Mytho-
logy, i. 358) on the affair of the clock-case. '' The wolf,"
he says, " is here the Night, or the Darkness, which tries
to swallow up the seven days of the week, and actually
swallows six. The seventh, the youngest, escapes by
hiding herself in the clock-case ; in other words, the week

VOL. I. 6

XVlll INTRODUCTION.

is not quite run out, and, before it comes to an end, the
mother of the goats unrips the wolfs stomach, and places
stones in it in place of the little goats who come trooping
out, as the days of the week begin again to run their
course."

This explanation rests on the one obviously modem
feature of the story. If the explanation is correct, the
state of mind in which Night could be conceived of as a
wolf, and as capable of being slit open, loaded with
stones, and sewn up again, must have lasted and remained
intelligible, till the quite recent invention of clock-cases.
The clock-case was then intelligently introduced into the
legend. This seems hard to believe, though Mr. Tylor
writes (^Primitive Culture, i. 341) thus, " We can hardly
doubt there is a quaint touch of sun-myth in a tale which
took its present shape since the invention of clocks."

Surely a clock-case might seem (^as to M. Boisgobey's
hero, and to the lady freemason in the old story, it did
seem) a good hiding-place, even to a mind not occupied
at all with the sun. What makes the whole interpreta-
tion the more dubious is, that while with Sir George Cox
the Wolf is the Night, with M. Husson (in the similar
tale of the swallowing of Red Riding Hood) the Wolf is
the Sun. And this is proved by the peculiar brilliance of
the wolf's fur, a brilliance recognised by Sir G. Cox when
he wants the sun to be a wolf.

On the whole, then, the student of mdrchen must avoid
two common errors. He must not regard modern interpo-
lations as part of the mythical essence of a story. He must
not hurry to explain every incident as a reference to the
natural phenomena of Dawn, Sunset, Wind, Storm, and the
like. The points which are so commonly interpreted thus,
are sometimes modern interpolations ; more frequently they
are relics of ancient customs of which the mythologist
never heard, or survivals from an archaic mental condition

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XIX

into which he has never inquired. Besides, as Mr. Tylor
has pointed out, explanations of the elemental sort, all about
storm and dawn, are so easy to find that every guesser can
apply them at will to every mdrchen. In these inquiries we
must never forget that " rash inferences which, on the
strength of mere resemblances, derive episodes of myth
from episodes of nature, must be regarded with
utter distrust, for the student who has no more stringent
criterion than this for his myths of sun, and sky, and
dawn, will find them wherever it pleases him to seek
them" (^Primitive Culture, i. 319). This sort of student,
indeed, finds his myths of sun, and sky, and dawn all
through the Grimms' Collection.

We have now set forth the nature of the problems which
meet the inquirer into Household Tales, and we have tried
to illustrate the necessity of a critical method, and the
danger of being carried away by faint or fancied resem-
blances and analogies. Our next step is to examine the
theory of the diffusion and origin of Household Tales set
forth by Sir George Cox in his Mythology of the Aryan
Nations (1870). This theory was suggested by, and, to a
certain extent, corresponds with the mythological philo-
sophy of Mr. Max Miiller, as published in Oxford Essays
(1856), and more recently in Selected Essays (1881).
There are, however, differences of detail and perhaps of
principle in the systems of these two scholars. As to the
diffusion of identical folk tales among peoples of Aryan
speech. Sir George Cox (dismissing theories of borrowing
or adaptation) writes :

" The real evidence points only to that fountain of
mythical language from which have flowed all the streams
of Aryan epic poetry, streams so varied in their character
yet agreeing so closely in their elements. The sub-
stantial identity of stories told in Italy, Norway and
India can but prove that the treasure-house of mythology

h 2

XX INTRODUCTION.

was more abundantly filled before the dispersion of the
Aryan tribes than we had taken it to be." Sir George
proceeds to remark on resemblances between German and
Hindoo tales, which shew " the extent to which the folk-
lore of the Aryans was developed while they still lived
as a single people " {Mythol. Aryan, i. 145). Thus Sir
George Cox accounts, on the whole, for the majority of the
resemblances among Aryan household tales, by the theory
that these tales are the common inheritance of the Aryan
race, such narratives the Aryans possessed " while they
still lived as a single people." The difficulties in which
this theory lands the inquirer will afterwards be set
forth. Here it may be observed that people who are not
Aryans none the less possess the stories.

So much for the Diffusion of Aryan Household Tales.
They are widely scattered (the theory goes), because the
single people which possessed them in its common seat
has itself been scattered widely, from Ceylon to Iceland.

Next, what is Sir George Cox's hypothesis as to the
Origin of Household Tales ? We have seen how he
supposes they were diffused. "We have still to ask how
such crazy legends were originally evolved. Why are
all things animate and inanimate on a level with man in
the tales ; why do beasts and trees speak ; why are canni-
balism, metamorphosis, magic, descents into Hades, and
many other impossible incidents so common ? What, in
short, is the Origin of Household Tales ?

Here it is not easy to be brief, as we have to give a
summary of Sir George Cox's theory of the intellectual
human past, from which he supposes these tales to have
been evolved. In the beginning of things, or as near
the beginning as he can go. Sir George finds men cha-
racterised by " the selfishness and violence, the cruelty
and slavishness of savages." Yet these cruel and violent
savages had the most exquisitely poetical, tender, and

^ HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXI

sympathetic way of regarding the external world
(MyiJiol. Ar. i. 39), "Deep is the tenderness with which
they describe the deaths of the sun-stricken dew, the
brief career of the short-lived sun, and the agony of the
Earth-mother mourning for her summer child." Not only
did early man cherish these passionate sympathies with
the fortunes of the sun and the dew, but he cherished them
almost to the exclusion of emotions perhaps more obvious
and natural as we modems hold. Man did not get used
to the dawn ; he was always afraid that the sun had sunk
to rise no more, "years might pass, or ages, before his
rising again would establish even the weakest analogy."
Early man was apparently much more difficult to satisfy
with analogies than modern mythologists are. After the
sun had set and risen with his accustomed regularity,
" perhaps for ages," " man would mourn for his death as for
the loss of one who might never return."

While man was thus morbidly anxious for the
welfare r,f the sun, and tearfully concerned about the
misfortunes of the dew, he had, as we have seen, the moral
qualities of the j^avage. He had also the intellectual
confusion, the perplexed philosophy of the contemporary
savage. Mr. Tylor, Mr. Im Thurn, Mr. Herbert Spencer,
and most scientific writers on the subject, have observed
that savages draw no hard and fast line between them-
selves and the animal or even the inanimate world. To
the mind of the savage all things organic or inorganic
appear to live and to be capable of conscious movement and
even of speech. All the world is made in the savage's
own image. Sir George Cox's early man wa& in this
savage intellectual condition, " He had life, and therefore
all things else must have life also. The sun, the moon, the
stars, the ground on wliich he trod, the clouds, storms, and
lightnings were all living beings : could he help thinking
that, like himself, they were conscious beings also ? "

XXU INTRODUCTION.

As man thouglit of all tilings as living, so he spoke of
them all as living. He could not get over the idea that
any day living clouds might spring lip and choke the
living snn, while he had the most unaffected sympathy
with the living dawn and the living dew. " In these
spontaneous utterances of thoughts awakened by outward
phenomena, we have the source of the myths which must
be regarded as primary " (Myth. Ar. i. 42). In all this
period, "there was no bound or limit to the images,
suggested by the sun in his ever varying aspects." Man,
apparently, was almost absorbed in his interest in the sun,
and in speculations about the dew, the cloud, the dawn.

We now approach another influence on mythology, the
influence of language. While man was in the conditions
of mind already described by Sir George Cox, he would use
" a thousand phrases to describe the actions of the bene-
ficent or consuming sun, of the gentle or awful night, of the
plaj'-ful or furious wind, and every word or phrase became
the germ of a new story, as soon as the mind lost its hold on
the original force of the name." Now the mind was always
losing its hold on the original force of the name, and the
result would be a constant metamorphosis of the remark
made about a natural phenomenon, into a myth about
something denoted by a term which had ceased to possess
any meaning. These myths, caused by forgetfulness of
the meaning of words (as we understand our author), were
of the secondary class, and a third class came into exist-
ence through folk-etymologies, as they are called, popular
guesses at the derivations of words. We have now briefly
stated Sir George Cox's theory of the origins of myths,
and of the mental condition and habits through which
myths were evolved. But how does this theory explain
the origin of Household Tales ?

This question ought to lead us to our third problem,
what are the relations of Household Tales to the higher

HOUSj^^OLD TALES^I ^^^^^

mythologies? But it U^y suffice to ^^^ ^^'^^ *^^* ^^
Sir George Cox's opinj^j^ most o^ ^^® Household Tales
are, in origin, myths of the p.^^^omena of day and night.
They are versions of the myths about the dark Night-powers
stealing the golden treasure of Day ; about Dawn loving the
Dew ; about the Birth and Death of the Sun ; about the
fortune of the Clouds, and so forth. Briefly, to illustrate
the theory, we have a primary myth when early man
says the (living) sun (Kephalos) loves the (living) dew
(Prokris), and slays her by his arrows (that is, his rays).

We have a secondary myth where it is forgotten that
Kephalos only meant the sun, and Prokris only meant the
dew, and when Kephalos is taken for a shepherd swain,
and Prokris for a pretty nymph. Lastly, we have a
tertiary myth when Apollo Lycaeus (whose name meant
Apollo of the Light) is supposed — by a folk-etymology — to
be Apollo the Wolf, and is said to have been born from a
were-wolf.* n

Household Tales are these myths in the making, or these
myths filtered down through the memories and lips of
uncounted generations (Myth. Ar.^ 165). It is on these
principles that Sir George seeks to explain the irrational
and unnatural element so powerful in folk tales.

We must now briefly criticise Sir George's system as a
whole. Next we must see how the system is applied by
him, and, lastly, we must approach the theory which we
propose to substitute for that set forth in Mythology of the
Aryan Peoples.

The point most open to criticism in Sir George Cox's
statement of his views, and in the similar views of Husson,
De Gubernatis, and many other mythologists. is the very
inadequate evidence. The framers of Primary Myths,
in Sir George Cox's system are (apparently) savages.

* In these examples Sir G. Cox's theories are only accepted for the
sake of arffument and illustration.

XXIV

IIJTEODUCTIO^.

Of savages they lia\^g, the moral tualities and the intel-
lectual habits. " The ^y^romineXV*' characteristics of that
early time were the selfishness, the violence, the cruelty
and harshness of savages." So much for morality. As for
intellect, of the several objects which met his eye, says
our author, mythopoeic man had no positive knowledge,
whether of their origin, their nature, or their proper-
ties. But he had life, and therefore all things else
must have life also. This mental stage " Animism,"
" personalism," or whatever we may call it, is also charac-
teristic of savages. Now when we come in our turn to
advance a theory of the origin of Household Tales, many
points in these tales will be deduced from the cruelty and
from the " Animism " of men like the framers of Sir
George Cox's " Primary Myths." But Sir George's
evidence for the savage estate of early myth-making man
is mainly derived from the study of language.* This
study has led him to views of the barbarism of the myth-
makers with which we are glad to agree, yet he dissents
here from his own chief authority, Mr. Max Miiller. In
the third chapter of the first volume of Mijihology of the
Aryan JRaces, the chapter which contains evidence for the
intellectual condition of early humanity. Sir George Cox
quotes scarcely any testimony except that of Mr. Max
Miiller.

The most important result of the whole examination,
as conducted by Sir George Cox, is that mythopoeic man,
knowing nothing of the conditions of his own life or of
any other, " invested " all things on the earth or in the

* When The Mythology of the Aryan Nations was written, philo-
logists were inclined to believe that their analysis of laniiuage was
the true, perhaps the only key, to knowledge of what men had been in
the pre-historic past. It is now generally recognised (though some
scliolars hold out against the opinion) that the sciences of Anthrop-
ology and Arclise()lo;:y also throw much light on the human past, which
lias left no literaiy documents. Compare Schrader's Sj^rack- Vergleichung
und Vrgeschichte. (jJena, 1883.)

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXV

heavens with the same vague idea of existence. But
while Sir George Cox makes this " Animism " — this invest-
ing of all things with life — the natural result of man's
thought, Mr. Max Miiller ascribes the habit to the reflex
action on thought of man's language. Man found himself,
according to Mr. Miiller (Selected Essays, i. 360), speaking
of all objects in words which had " a termination expressive
of gender, and this naturally produced in the mind the
corresponding idea of sex," and, as a consequence, people
gave " something of an individual, active, sexual, and at
last personal character " to the objects of which they
spoke. Mr. Miiller is aware that the " sexual character
of words reflects only the quality of the child's mind,"
but none the less he attributes the " animism " of
mythopoeic man to the reflex influence of man's language,
whereas Sir George Cox attributes it to the direct influence
of man's thought. Thus Sir George deserts the authority
from V^^hich he derives his evidence, and it is not here
alone that he differs from Mr. Miiller. Sir George's
framers of " primary myths " are savages, morally and
intellectually ; Mr. Miiller's mythopoeic men, on the
other hand, are practically civilised. Man, in Mr. Muller's
" mythopoeic age," had the modern form of the Family,
had domesticated animals, was familiar with the use of the
plough, was a dweller in cities, a constructor of roads, he
was acquainted with the use of iron as well as of the
earlier metals. {^Selected Essays, vol. i. " Comparative
Mythology."*) There is thus no escaping frojn the con-
clusion that, though Mr. Miiller's evidence is nearly the sole
basis of Sir George Cox's theories, yet from that evidence
Sir George draws inferences almost the reverse of those
attained by Mr. Miiller. Yet starting from the same

* Mr. Miiller has stated this proposition, but a note in Selected
Essays proves that he now admits the uncertainty of the early use of
lion.

XXVI INTRODUCTION.

evidence, and from different inferences, tlie two authors
arrive at much the same conclusion in the long run.

We have complained of the inadequate evidence for Sir
George Cox's sj^'stem. It is, as we have seen, derived
from Mr. Max Miiller's analysis of the facts of language.
But there is another sort of evidence which was germane
to Sir George's purpose, and which he has almost
absolutely neglected. That evidence is drawn from the
study of the manners and customs of men, and is collected
and arranged by the science of Anthropology. The
materials of that science are found in the whole of human
records, in history, in books of travel, in law, customs,
superstition. A summary of the results so far attained
by anthropology and ethnology is to be studied by English
readers in Mr. Tj^or's Primitive Culture and Early History
of Man. These works deal with the evolution of human
institutions of every kind from their earliest extant forms
found among savages. We are thus enabled, by the science
of students like Mr. Tylor, to understand what the ideas
and institutions of savages are, and how far they survive,
more or less modified, in civilisation. Now Sir George
Cox's makers of primary myths were in the savage state
of culture, or, as he himself puts it, " The examination of
our language carries us back to a condition of thought
not many degrees higher than that of tribes which we
regai d as sunk in hopeless barbarism " (Myth. Ar. i. 35).
But his description of the intellectual and moral condition
of the primary myth-makers (Myth. Ar. i. 39-41) shows
that really Sir George's mythopoeic men were in no
higher degree of " culture " than Eed Indians and Maoris.
As this is tbe case, it would surely have been well to
investigate what history has to say about the mental
habits of savages. As the makers of primary myths were
savages, it would have been scientific to ask, " How do
contemporary savages, and how did the savages of history,

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXVll

regard the world in which they find themselves, and of
what character are their myths ? " Sir George Cox,
however, leaves on one side and practically unnoticed all
evidence except philological evidence as to the general
habits of men in the same intellectual condition as his
own makers of primary myths. Herein lies, we think,
the original error of his system.

Instead of examining the natural history of savages to
Bee how men like his primary myth-makers regard the
universe, Sir George Cox describes the prevalence
among mythopoeic men of what we must regard as a purely
fanciful mental attitude. Sir George's myth-makers, as
we have seen, lived in a tremulous and passionate
sympathy with nature, and with the fortunes of the
day and the year, of the dawn and the dew. " Perhaps
for ages they could not believe that the sun would rise
again in the morning." From every stage in the sun's
progress the myth-makers derived thrilling excitement.
They threw themselves with their whole souls into the
love affairs and distresses of the dew. They mourned for
the setting sun, " as for the loss of one who might never
return."

Now does Sir George give any evidence, drawn from
the natural history of man, for all this sentimental, yet
sincere, primitive excitement about the processes of
nature. None, or next to none. We do find summer-
feasts and winter-fasts, rituals of regret and rejoicing for
the coming and departing of summer among many
races. Here and there (as in the Popol Vuh, an enigmatic,
Quichua record) we see traces of anxious interest in the
sun. Again, all savage races have nature-myths explan-
atory of the motions of the heavenly bodies — a rude sort
of science. But as to this all absorbing, all-pervading
tender and poetic habit of primitive sympathy with natural
phenomena, we find no proof of it anywhere. Savages,

XXVlll INTRODUCTION.

like civilised people, are mucli more interested in making
love, making war, making fun, and providing dinner,
than in the phenomena of nature.* But in Sir George
Cox's system of mythology the enormous majority of
myths and of household tales are simply the reflections
of the supposed absorbing and passionate early sympathy
of savages with the processes of nature. For the exist-
ence to the necessary extent of that sympathy we find
no evidence. In all ages men must have been more
concerned about earthly gold and mortal young women
than about the " dawn gold " or " the dawn maiden," yet
in myths where gold or girls occur, Sir George sees the
treasures of the light, or the radiant maiden of the mom.
This is natural, while he is convinced that the makers of
primary myths were so intensely absorbed in sympathy
with clouds, and dew, and sunshine. But we ask again
for sufficient evidence that these sentiments existed in a
degree capable of exercising an exclusive influence on
myths.

Turning from the theory of the primary to that of the
secondary myths, we again note the absence of convincing
testimony, or indeed of any valid testimony at all.

Primary myths arose, Sir George says, from thought ;
secondary myths from language. They came into exist-
once because " a thousand phrases would be used to
describe the action of the beneficent or consuming sun,"
and so forth, " and every word or phrase became the
germ of a new story, as soon as the mind lost its hold on
the original force of the name " (jSIyth. Ar. i. 42). This
application of dozens of names and phrases to the
same object is called Polyonymij by Mr. Max Miiller,
aud the converse use of one name for a vast variety of

* Inferences drawn from the Vedas are not to the point, as the
Vedas contain the elaborate hymns of an advanced society, not (ex-
cept by way of survival) the ideas of early myth-makers.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXIX

objects (which become " homonyms ") he calls Synonymy.
It is Mr. Miiller's opinion that, in the mythopoeic
age, people might call the sun (let us say) by some
fifty names expressive of different qualities (this is
polyonymy), while some of these names would be applic-
able to other objects also. These other objects would
then be homonyms of the sun, would be called by the same
names as the sun was called by. (This is synonymy).
The meaning of all these names would be lost in perhaps
three generations, but the names and the phrases in which
the names occurred would survive after their significance
was lost. It is clear that if ever such a state of languasre
prevailed, the endless consequent misunderstandings
might well blossom into myths. For example, the grand-
father (in the mythopoeic age) observes the rush of the
ascending sun, and calls him " the lion." The father,
being accustomed to the old man's poetic way, understands
his meaning perfectly well, and the family style the sun
" the lion," as they also, ex hypothesis call him by forty-nine
other names, most of which they moreover apply to other
objects, say to the tide, the wind, the clouds. But the
grandson finds this kind of talk hopelessly puzzling (and
no wonder), and he, forgetting the original meanings,
comes to believe that the sun is a lion, and the night
(perhaps) a wolf, and so he tells stories about the night-
wolf, the sun-lion, and so on. (Here the examples are our
own, but the theory is Mr. Miiller's. Selected Essays^ i. 376-
378.)

No marvel if myths arose in an age when people spoke
in this fashion, and when the grandson retained the
grandsire's phrase, though he had helplessly forgotten
the grandsire's meaning. Mr. Miiller protests against
degrading our ancestors into *' mere idiots," but if they
escaped becoming hopeless imbeciles during this " mytho-
poeic age " it is highly to their credit.

XXX INTRODUCTION.

But where is the evidence for Polyonymy, Synonymy
and rapid oblivion, the three factors in secondary myth-
making ? As far as we have been able to discover, we are
offered no convincing evidence at all. Mr. Miiller gives
cases of polyonymy and synonymy from the Veda (^Selected
Essays, i. 377).* But (1.) The Vedic age is, ex hyjpothed,
long subsequent to the mythopoeic age. (2.) The necessary
and indispensable process of forgetfulness of the meaning
of phrases does not occur in the age of the Veda. People
in the Veda call the earth wide, broad, great (polyony-
my). They also apply the term " broad " to a river, sky,
and dawn. But did their grandchildren on this account
mistake the Earth for the Dawn, or the Sky for the Earth ?
Thus Mr. Miiller is apparently unable to give examples of
his causes of myth from the age in which myths proceeded
from these causes, and when he does produce examples of
the causes, they result in no myths. Where he finds the
effects he does not demonstrate the existence of the causes ;
when he has evidence for the existence of the causes, he
shews no effects. (Selected Essays, i. 377, 378). When
Mr. Miiller does attempt to adduce a term which originally
was a mere name, and later became a proper name, and
so indicated a person, the process can be accounted
for by another explanation. (Selected Essays, i. 378),
*' Zevs being originally a name for the sky, like the
Sanskrit Dyaus, became gradually a proper name." But
if the sky was in the mind of the makers of primary
myths, Qt, person inevitably and from the first (as we think, in
agreement with Sir George Cox), then the name of the sky
was from the first a proper name. When all things were
persons (as they are to the minds of savages and primary
my th,-makers) all names may be regarded as proper names.

* Kuhn also brings forward the Vedic lanojuage as proof of the
existence of polyonymy and synonymy. Ueher EntwicMungsstufen der
Mythenhildung, p. 1.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXXI

It is the ascertained condition of the savage intellect (as
stated by Sir George Cox and by anthropologists) which
invests all things with personal character. Forgetfulness
of meaning of words is not the cause. The processes
of jpolyonymij^ synonymy^ and oblivion are superfluous as
means of accounting for the personal aspect of all things
in mythology. They are also (as far as we have been
able to discover) processes for which no good evidence is
produced.

Sir George Cox has borrowed Folyonymy and its
effects from Mr. Miiller, though he gives no evidence
to prove that it was ever a large factor in mythology.
At first the processes of polyonymy and oblivion seem
superfluous in Sir George's system, because he has
already (in the intellectual condition of his primary
myth-makers) sufScient myth-making power. While his
early men regarded all things as living and personal,
they would account for all natural processes on that hypo-
thesis, and the explanations thus given would be nature-
myths of the class current among savages. For example,
if Sir George's early men thought (as they did) that the sim
was alive, they might well marvel at the regularity of his
movements ; why did he not run about the sky at random
as a brute runs about the woods ? Why did he go, like a
driven beast, in a regular round ? To answer this question
the New Zealanders and North American Indians have
evolved a story that Maui or Tcha-ka-betch once set traps
for the sun, caught him, beat him, and made him move
for the future with orderly propriety. This is 4n unde-
niable nature-myth, and savage^ mythology, lik^ that of
Greece and of the Yeda, is full of similar mythic explana-
tions of natural phenomena. To explain such myths no
"pTooessQS of jpolyony my, synonymy, and oblivion are needed.
Why then are those processes required in the system of Sir
George Cox ? For this reason ; he is not content with the

XXXll INTRODUCTION.

myths whicn declare themselves to be nature-myths. He
wishes to prove that epic and romantic legends, which
say nothing about sun, moon, stars, and wind, are nature-
myths in disguise. Here the processes of polyonymy and
oblivion become useful.

For example, we have the myth which tells how
Jason sought the golden fleece in an eastern land, how
he won the treasure and the daughter of its owner,
how he returned home, deserted Medea, wedded Glauce,
and died. Now nothing is openly said in this legend
about natural phenomena, except that the Colchian Royal
House belongs to the solar race as the royal family did in
India and Peru, and as the Totem tribe or gens of suns
(Natchez and Aurelii) did in North America and in Rome.
How, then, can the Jason legend be explained on a nature-
myth ? By the aid of Polyonymy, thus : The sun had
countless names. The names for sun, and dawn, and cloud,
lost (in Sir George's opinion) their original sense, and
became names of heroes, ladies, gods and goddesses. The
original sense of the names was half remembered and half
forgotten. Athene is " the dawn goddess " (Myth. Ar.
ii. 119). Phrixus, the child of Nephele, is the son of the
cloud. Helle, the drowned girl of the fable, is "the
bright clear air illumined by the rays of the sun."
When we are told that she was drowned, no more was
originally meant than that " before the dawn can come
the evening light must die out utterly " (Ar. Myth. ii.
273). Here let us pause and reflect. In the myth,
Phrixus and Helle, children of Nephele, escaped being
sacrificed by flying away on a winged ram with a
golden fleece. Helle fell off and was drowned. How does
Sir George Cox explain all this ? Nephele is the cloud,
so far all is plain sailing. The cloud has two children, one
" the frigid Phrixus ; " the other, " the bright clear air
illuminated by the rays of the sun ;" or again, " the evening

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXXlll

light." Early men, we are to suppose, said that the cloud
produced cold, and also bore the warm evening air. Why-
do the warm air and the cold air go off together eastward
on a golden flying ram ? This we do not see that Sir
George explains, but the fleece of the ram (after that
animal has been slain) becomes the treasure of the light,
which is sought in the east by Jason. But who is Jason ?
His name " must be classed with the many others, Jasion,
Janus, lolaos, laso, belonging to the same root " {Myth.
Ar. i. 150, note 1), And what is the root? Well (ii. 81)
lamus, from the same root, means " the violet child ; " he
was found among violets. Now \ov (violet) applies to the
violet coloured sunset clouds, and ids also means a spear,
and " represents the far-darting rays of the sun." " The
word as applied to colour is traced by Prof. Max Miiller to
the root ^, as denoting a crying hue, that is, a loud colour."*
Thus, whether we take ids to mean a spear, or violet, or
what you please, Jason's name connects him with the
sun. The brain reels in the attempt to make sense of the
cold air and the hot air, children of the cloud, going
eastward, on a ram covered with the treasures of the light,
and when we come to the warm air dying, and the light
being stripped (in the east) from the ram, and being
sought for by a man whose name more or less means violet,
and who comes from the west, and when all this is only
the beginning of the tale, we are absolutely perplexed.
Who ever told such tales ? Yes, we say, if ever men were
deep in the perplexing processes of polyonymy, synonymy
and oblivion, if ever the grandfather used countless
allegorical phrases, which the grandchild piously retained,
while he quite forgot their sense, then, iadeed, this kind
of muddled and senseless nature-myth may have been
evolved. But we have vainly asked for evidence of tlie

* The " violet shrinking meanly " of Miss Bunion's poem, has a
" loud," or " crying " colour I

VOL. I. C

XXXIV INTRODUCTION.

existence and actiYity of polyonymy, synonymy, and
oblivion. The first and last of the three factors are useful,
however, to Sir George Cox, when he tries to show that
myths which do not give themselves out for nature-myths
are nature-myths in disguise after all. But we have
observed no evidence (except the opinion of some philo-
logists) for the theory on which the Avhole demonstration
depends. Again, M. Decharme, with just as much reason,
makes Phrixus "the demon of thunder," and Helle, "a
goddess of lightning ! " This kind of philosophy is too
facile. To opinions like those which Sir George Cox
has advanced with so much earnestness, and in such
a captivating style of eloquence, it has always been
objected that there is an improbable monotony in the
theory which resolves most of old romance into a series
of remarks about the weather. This objection has not
been made by uncritical writers only. M. Meyer com-
plains, almost petulantly, of that *' eternal lay-figure,"
the sun in all his mythological disguises. (Romania.)
No historical hero, no custom, no belief, M. Meyer
vows, is out of danger from the solar mythologists.

Mr. Tylor again writes (Primitive Culture^ i. 319), "No
legend, no allegory, no nursery rhyme is safe from
the hormeneutics of a thorough- going mythologic theorist.
Should he, for instance, demand as his property the
nursery ' Song of Sixpence,' his claim would be easily
established : obviously the four-and-twenty blackbirds are
the four-and-twenty hours, and the pie that holds them is
the underlying earth covered with the over-arching sky :
how true a touch of nature is it that ' when the pie is
opened,' that is, when day breaks, ' the birds begin to
sing,' the King is the Sun, and his ' counting out his
money,' is pouring out the sunshine, the golden shower
of Danae ; the Queen is the Moon, and her transparent
honey the moonlight. The maid is the " rosy-fingered "

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXXV

Dawn, who rises before the Sun, her master, and ' hangs
out the clothes' (the clouds) across the sky ; the particular
blackbird who so tragically ends the tale by * snipping
off her nose,' is the hour of sunrise. The time-honoured
rhyme really wants but one thing to prove it a sun-myth,
that one thing being a proof by some argument more
valid than analogy." Mr. Tylor easily shows that his-
torical persons may be disposed of no less readily than the
characters of Nursery Rhymes as solar-myths. Analogy
is usually the one argument advanced for this scheme,
and the analogies (as will be shown) are often so faint as to
be practically non-existent. What " false analogies " can
be made to prove, Mr. Max Miiller has demonstrated
(Selected Essays, ii. p. 449). Mr. Miiller has also gently
censured (Selected Essays, i. 564, 565) the ready way in
which M. Husson shows that Eed Hiding Hood was the
Dawn : "It would be a bold assertion to say that the
story of Red Eiding Hood was really a metamorphosis of
an ancient story of the rosy-fingered Eos, or the Vedic
Ushas with her red horses." In Mr. Miiller's opinion
*' there is but one safe path to follow in these researches
into the origin of words or stories. ... In addition
to the coincidences in characteristic events, we have
the evidence of language. Names are stubborn things,"
and more to the same purpose. Here we touch one
of the differences between Sir George Cox and Mr.
Max Miiller. Mr. Miiller, like Sir George Cox, is of
opinion that all the stories of princesses imprisoned, and
delivered by young bright heroes, " can be traced back to
mythological tradition about the S]3ring being released
from the bonds of winter." _ But in each case Mr.
Miiller asks for names of characters in the story, names
capable of being analysed into some equivalent for powers
of nature, sun, wind, night, or what not. Now, we have
elsewhere tried to show that, in mythological interpreta*

c 2

XXXVl INTEODUCTION. .

tion, scarcely any reliance can be placed on analysis of
the names of the characters.* It seems more than pro-
bable that in most cases the stories are older than the
names. Again, the custom of giving to real persons
names derived from forces and phenomena of nature is
widely prevalent in early society. Men and women are
styled "cloud," "sun," "wind," and so forth. These
names, then, even when they can be traced in myths, offer
no surer ground for a theory than the analysis of such
names as Jones and Thompson would do in a novel.
Having to name the characters in his tale, the early
story-teller might naturally give such personal titles as
were common in his own tribe, such terms as " Wind,"
" Cloud " " Sun," and so forth. Thirdly, the best philo-
logists differ widely from each other as to the roots from
which the names spring, and as to the sense of the names.
But feeble as is the method which relies on analysis of
mythical names, it is at all events less casual than the
method which is satisfied with mere " coincidence in cha-
racteristic events." The simple argument of many mytho-
logists may be stated thus. " The dawn is a maiden,
therefore all maidens in myths are the dawn." " The sun
is golden, therefore all gold in myths must be solar."
These opinions are derived, in the long run, from the belief
that the savage primary myth-makers were so much pre-
occupied with thje daily phenomena of nature, and again
from belief in the action of polyonymy and oblivion.
We have attempted to show that there is no evidence
given to prove either that early man was in passionate,
ceaseless anxiety about nature, • or that " polj-onymy "
and oblivion ever existed in such strength as to produce
the required effects on myths. As a rule, a real nature-
myth avows itself for what it is, and attempts to give a
reason (unscientific of course) for this or that fact, or

* Eraser's Magazine. MifMlogical Pliilosophy of Mr. Max Muller,

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXXVll

assumed fact, in nature. Such tales though wild, and
based on misconception, are intelligible and coherent.
We have already seen how far from coherent or intelli-
gible is Sir George Cox's explanation of part of the Jason
legend as nature-myth.

We promised that, after criticising Sir George Cox's
theory of the Origin of Myths and Household Tales, we
would examine his method of interpreting individual
stories. Let us see how Mr. Miiller, followed by Sir
George, handles a tale with which we are all familiar.
In Grimm's FroscJi Konig (vol. i. Tale i.), a frog (who
in Grimm turns out to be a disguised prince) is betrothed
to a princess. *' How came such a story," asks Mr. Max
Miiller, " ever to be invented ? Human beings were, we
may hope, at all times sufficiently enlightened to know
that a marriage between a frog and the daughter of a
Queen was absurd. . . . We may ascribe to our ancestors
any amount of childlike simplicity, but we must take
care not to degrade them to the rank of mere idiots."

Mr. Miiller thus explains the frog who would a-wooing
go. As our ancestors were not mere idiots, the frog story
must have had a meaning which would now seem rational.
In old times (Mr. Miiller says) the sun had many
names. " It can be shown that ' frog ' was an ancient
name for the sun." But though it can be shown, Mr.
Muller never shows it. He observes " this feminine Bheki
(frog) must at one time have been used as a name for the
sun." But though he himself asks for " chapter and verse
from the Veda," he gives us no verse and no chapter for
his assertions {Chips, ii. 201, 247). His theory is that tales
were told of the sun, under his frog name, that people for-
got that the frog meant the sun, and that they ended by
possessing an irrational tale about the frog going a-wooing.

The Frog-sun* whose existence is established on this

* See note, ad fin, and "Cupid and Psyche" in the author's
Custom and Myth.*

XXXVlll INTRODUCTION.

scanty testimony, is a great favonrite with Sir George
Cox, and occurs no fewer than seven times in his
Mythology of the Aryan Peoi^les. Kay, this frog is made to
explain the presence of many of the wonderful talking
animals in Myth and Household Tale. " The frog
■ prince or princess is only one of the thousand personifica-
tions of names denoting originally the phenomena of day
and night. As carrying the morning light from the east
to the west the sun is the Bull bearing Europe from the
jDurple land (Phoinikia), and the same changes which
converted the Seven Shiners into the Seven Sleepers of
Ephesus, or the ' Seven Sages ' (of Greece ? ), or the
Seven Champions of Christendom, or the Seven Bears,
transformed the sun into a wolf, a bear, a lion, a swan."
{Ar. Myth. i. 105.)

Here we have the old use of analogies. Because of a
theory (probably incorrect) that the Seven Bears of
Indian stellar myth were originally seven shiners, all
sorts of people in sets of seven twinkle off as " shiners "
also, stellar or solar shiners. In the same way the
theory of the sun-frog (without chapter or verse as it
is) proves that all animals in Household Tales are the
sun.

As the appearance of beasts with human qualities and
accomplishments is one of the most remarkable features
of Household Tales, we may look at another statement of
Sir George Cox's views on this subject. Metamorphosis of
men into animals and of animals into men is as common
in Household Tales as a sprained ankle is in modern
novels. Sir George Dasent {Popular .Tales, p. cxix)
pointed out that the belief in such metamorphoses "is
primeval, and the traditions of every race tell of such
transformations." Sir George Cox takes one of Sir
George Dasent's numerous examples, and remarks "if
this be an illustration, it accounts for all such transforma-

HOUSEHOLD TALES. XXXIX

tions, but it does so in a way whicli is completely
subversive of any hypothesis of nature-worship. Such
myths may all he traced to mere forgeifulness of the original
meaning of words" As proof, Sir George Cox adduces
the well worn " seven shiners," and the supposed confusion
between X€vk6<;^ shining, and Xvko^, a wolf, " so named
from the glossiness of his ' coat,' " as if wolves had coats so
peculiarly glossy. By these examples alone (omitting the
frog-sun) Sir George Cox contests the plain straight-
forward theory of Sir George Dasent, that men every-
where naturally believe in metamorphosis and lykanthropy.
Sir George Cox wishes to trace lykanthropy to a confusion
between Xv'ko?, and \€vk6<s. On this point Sir Alfred
Lyall, after long observation of Indian beliefs, says, " To
those who live in a country where wicked people and
witches are constantly taking the form of wild beasts,
the explanation of lykanthropy by a confusion between
Leukos and Lukos seems wanton." (Fortnightly Beview.)

Wantonly or not. Sir George Cox traces "all such
myths to mere forgetfulness of the original meaning of
words." For this prodigiously sweeping generalisation
no evidence except evidence like that of the supposed
frog-sun and " seven shiners " and Leukos and Luhos is
afforded. {Ar. Myth. i. 140-141, note 1.) " Bears, wolves,
foxes, ducks, swans, eagles, ants, all these are names
under w^hich the old mythical language spoke of the
clouds, or the wind, or of the light which conquers the
darkness." Here again we have, by way of supporting
evidence, the " seven shiners," and " the wolf in the
stories of Phoibos Lykeios." As the belief in metamor-
phosis, and in beasts which are rational and loquacious, is
world wide, and is the natural result of the ideas of
"primary myth-makers," or savages, Sir George Cox's
theory, that such notions are all to be traced to forgetful-
ness of the meaning of words denoting natural phenomena.

Xl INTEODUCTION.

is too narrow, and is too devoid of evidence. Another
explanation will presently be offered.

We may now leave Sir George's theories of the
diffusion and origin of Household Tales. They are
widely diffused, he thinks, because the race which
originally evolved them is also scattered far and wide,
and has carried them everywhere in its wanderings.
The stories originated, again, in man's early habit of
imaginatively endowing all things with life, in his almost
exclusive preoccupation with the changes of the day and
the year, and in " polyonymy," and forgetfulness of the
meaning of language. The third problem, as we saw, is
to explain the relations between Household Tales and
the higher mythologies. Are children's m'drchen the detritus^
the last worn relics of the higher myths, as these reached
the peasant class, and passed through the fancy of nurses
and grandmothers? Or do the Household Tales rather
represent the oldest forms of the Eomantic myths, and
are the heroic legends of Greece, India, Finland, Scandi-
navia, Wales, merely the old nursery stories elaborated
and adorned by the arts of minstrels and priests ? On
the former hypothesis, mdrchen are a detritus; on the
latter mdrchen are rather the surviving shapes of the
original germs of myths. On this topic Sir George Cox,
as far as we have ascertained his meaning, appears to
hold Avhat is perhaps the most probable opinion, that in
certain cases the Household Tale is the decaying remnant
of the half-forgotten myths, while in other cases it rather
represents the original ndif form out of which the higher
myth has been elaborated {Ar. Myth. i. 123). Possibly we
have not succeeded here in apprehending the learned
author's sense. As a rule, however, writers on these
Rubjects believe in the former hypothesis, namely, that
Household Tales are the detritus of the higher myths ;
are the old heroic coins defaced and battered by long

HOUSEHOLD TALES. xli

service. Thus, about the time when the Grimms were 1
collecting their stories, Scott wrote (in a note to the Lady off
the Lake), " The mythology of one period would appear to \
pass into the romance of the next, and that into the '
nursery tales of subsequent ages." Mr. Max Miiller
expresses the same idea (^CMps, xi. 243), " The gods of
ancient mythology were changed into the demigods and
heroes of ancient epic poetry, and these demigods again
became at a later age the priucipal characters in our
nursery tales." The opposite of this theory might be ex-
pressed thus, " Stories originally told about the characters
of savage tales were finally attracted into the legends of
the gods of ancient mythology, or were attributed to
demigods and heroes." The reasons for preferring this
view (the converse of Mr. Miiller's) will presently be ex-
plained. In the meantime Mr. Midler's hypothesis " has
great allies " in Scott ; and in Von Hahn, who holds that
myths are imaginative descriptions of the greater
elementary powers and changes of nature ; that the Saga
or heroic epic localises the myths in real places, and
attributes the adventures to supposed ancestral heroes,
and, finally, " that the MdrcJien, or Household Tale is the
last and youngest form of the saga " (GriecMsche Mdrchen^
p. 5).

Starting from this x^oint, namely, from the doubt as to
whether mdrclien are the youngest (Von Hahn. Max
Miiller), or rather, as we shall attempt to show, the oldest
extant form of the higher myths, we will endeavour to
explain our theory of the whole subject. That theory
must first be stated as briefly and clearly as possible.

With regard (1) to the Origin of the peculiar and irra-
tional features of myth and mdrchen we believe them to be
derived and inherited from the savage state of man, from
the savage conditions of life, and the savage way of re-
gardiiig the world. (2) As to the Diffusion of the tales, we

xlii INTEODUCTION.

think it impossible at present to determine how far they
may have been transmitted from people to people, and
wafted from place to place, in the obscure and immeasur-
able past of human antiquity, or how far they may be
due to identity of human fancy everywhere. (3) As to the
relations between Household Tales and Greek or other
civilised myths, we prefer the following theory, which
leaves room for many exceptions. The essence both of
mdrchen and myths is a number of impossible and very
peculiar incidents. These incidents are due to the
natural qualities of the savage imagination. Again, the
incidents are combined into various romantic arrange-
ments, each of these arrangements being a mdrchen. The
m'drclien were originally told, among untutored peoples,
about anonymous heroes, — a boy, a girl, a lion, a bear, —
such were the leading characters of the earliest tales. As
tribes became settled, these old stories were localised,
the adventures (originally anonymous) were attributed
to real or imaginary named persons or gods, and were
finally adorned by the fancy of poets like the early
singers of Greece. Thus, while a savage race has its
mdrchen (in which the characters are usually beasts or
anonymous persons), the civilised race (or the race in a
state of higher barbarism) has the same tale, developed
and elaborated into a localised myth, with heroes
rejoicing in such noble names as Perseus, Odysseus, Jason,
Leminkainen, or Maui. But while the progressive classes
in civilised countries are acquainted with the named
heroes, and the elaborate forms of the legends, the com-
paratively stationary and uneducated classes of shepherds,
husbandmen, wood-men, and fishers, retain a version but
little advanced fi-om the old savage story. They have
not purified away the old ferocious and irrational elements
of the tale, or at most they have substituted for the
nameless heroes, characters derived from history or from

HOUSEHOLD TALES. xliii

Christian records. Thus the Household Tales of the
European peasantry occupy a mean position between the
savage story, as we find it among African tribes, and the
elaborate myth which, according to our theorj^ poets and
priests have evolved out of the original savage data.
To sum up the theory thus briefly stated :

1. The origin of the irrational element in myth and
tale is to be found in the qualities of the uncivilised
imagination.

2. The process of Diffusion remains uncertain. Much
may be due to the identity everywhere of early fancy :
something to transmission.'

3. Household Tales occupy a middle place between
the stories of savages and the myths of early civilisations.

There are probably marchen, however, especially among
the tales of modem Greece, which are really the
detritus, or worn and battered relics of the old mytho-
logies.

Nothing is easier than to advance new theories. The
difficulty begins when we try to support them by argu-
ment and evidence. It may be as well to show how the
system which we have just explained occurred to the mind
of the writer. It was first suggested, years ago, by the
study of savage mdrchen. If Bushmen and Samoyeds, and
Zulus, and Maoris, and Eskimo, and Odjibwas, and
Basutos have household tales essentially identical with
European mdrchen, how, we asked, is this to be explained ?
Mr. Max Miiller and Sir G. W. Cox had scouted the idea of
borrowing. Then, was it to be supposed that all the races
with Household Tales had once shared the capacious
"cradle of the Aryan Race?" That seemed hard to
demonstrate.* To account for the identity of savage and

* This appears, however, to be the theory by which Sir George
Cox would prefer to account for the diffusion of myths possessed by
the Aryan race among the Indians of Labrador (cf. Hind's Explorations
in Labrador),

^

xliv INTRODUCTION.

Indo-European mdrchen^ there remained the process of
slow filtration and transmission on one hand, and the
similarity of the workings of the human mind (especially
in its earlier stages) on the other hand. But Mr. Max
Miiller had already discredited the hypothesis that mdrchen
" might have been invented more than once" {Chips, ii.
233). " It has been said," writes Mr. Miiller, " that there
is something so natural in most of the tales, that they
might well have been invented more than once. This is
a sneaking argument, but has nevertheless a certain
weight. It does not apply, however, to our fairy tales.
They surely cannot be called ' natural.' They are full of
the most unnatura] conceptions. . ." Among these unna-
tural conceptions, Mr. Miiller noted the instance of a frog
wooing a maiden ; and he went on, as we have already
seen, to explain such ideas on the hypothesis that they
resulted from " a disease of language," from forgetfulness
of the meaning of words. Now some little anthropological
study had shown us that the ideas (so frequent in House-
hold Tales), which Mr. Miiller calls unnatural, were
exactly the ideas most natural to savages. So common
and so natural is the idea of animal kinship and
matrimonial alliance with animals to the savage mind^
that stories turning on these data are, of all stories, the
most likely to have been invented in several places.* We
do not say that they were thus separately invented, but
only that the belief on which they turn is, of all beliefs,
the most widely diffused. Having once attained this
point, we soon discovered that other essential incidents in
mdrchen, incidents which seem unnatural to civilised men,
are common and accredited parts of the savage concep-
tion of the world he lives in. When this was once

* 'Ofioiws TTov av4fxi^av Orjpia koL avQpunrovs, says Porpli}'Ty, speaking
of the founders of the old Eeligions; "they mixed up men and beasts
indiscriminately." Porph. ap. Euseb. Praejp. ev. iii. 4.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. xlv

ascertained, the rest of our theory followed on the
ordinary lines of the evolution of human institutions.
To take an example in another province. Savages of a
certain degree of culture make hand-turned pots of clay.
Civilised races use the wheel. Peasants in remote dis-
stricts of civilised countries make hand- turned pots of clay
much like those of savages. The savage tale answers to
the savage pipkin. The vase from Vallauris answers to
the civilised myth. The hand-turned pot from Uist or
Barra, answers to the peasant mdrchen ; pot and mdrchen
both surviving, with modifications, from the savage state,
among the non-progressive class in civiKsed countries.

Such pipkins from the Hebrides (where Mr. Camp-
bell collected his Tales) resemble much more the pre-
historic and savage pot than they resemble our
Vallauris vase, with its classic shape, ornament, and
balance. Just in the same way, the West Highland or
Eussian mdrchen is much more akin to the Zulu story
than to the civilised myth of Greece, which turns on the
same ideas. In both the material and the imaginative
product, you have the same process of evolution. You
have the rude stuff, clay and small flints and shells for
the savage pot, savage ideas for the savage tale. You have
the refined, selected clay for the civilised vase, the ingeni-
ous process of fabrication, the graceful form and ornament.
In the realm of imagination these answer to the plastic
fancy of old minstrels, and of Homer or Apollonius
Ehodius, refining and modifying the rude stuff of savage
legend. Finally, among the non-progressive crofters of
the Hebrides you have (in manufacture) the rude clay,
the artless fagon, the ornament incised with the nails ; and
you have, in the imaginative province, tales almost as
wild as the working of Bushman or Zulu imagination.
(Campbell's Tales of the West Highlands).

Here then is an example, and dozens might be given of

xlvi INTRODUCTION.

the process of evolution, which is the mainspring of our
system. Another example may be taken from the realm
of magic. All over the world savages practise spells,
divinations, superstitious rites ; they maim images to hurt
the person whom the image resembles ; they call up the
dead ; they track the foot- prints of ghosts in ashes ; they
tie " witch-knots ; " they use incantations ; they put sharp
objects in the dust where a man has trodden that the man
may be lamed. Precisely the same usages survive every-
where in the peasant class, and are studied by amateurs of
folk-lore. But among the progressive classes of civilisa-
tion those practices do not occur at all ; or if they do occur,
it is by way of revival and recrudescence. On the other
hand, the magical ideas are found much elaborated, in the
old myths of civilisation, in the sagas of Medea and
Circe, of Odin and Loki. Probably it will now be
admitted that we have established the existence of the
process of evolution on which our theory depends. It is
a vera causa, a verifiable working process. If more ex-
amples are demanded, they may be found in any ethno-
logical museum. In General Pitt Eivers's anthropological
collection, the development may be traced. Given stone,
clay, the tube, or blow-pipe, and the throwing-stick, and
you advance along the whole line of weapons and pro-
jectiles, reaching the boomerang, the bow, the stone-headed
arrow, the metal arrow-head, the dagger, the spear, the
sword, and, finally, the rifle and bayonet. The force which
works in the evolution of manufactured objects works also
in the transmutation of custom into law, of belief into
tale, and of tale into myth, with constant minute modi-
fication, and purification, degradation, and survival.

If we have established the character of our theory,
as one of a nature acknowledged and accepted by
science, we have still to give evidence for our facts. The
main purpose of our earlier pages was to show that the

HOUSEHOLD TALES. xlvii

popular mythological theory of Sir G. W. Cox, had either
no evidence, or scanty evidence, or evidence capable of
a more correct interpretation than it receives from
its friends. The evidence for our own theory will be
closely scrutinised :*^let us examine its nature and extent.
First, Have savages Household Tales, and do they cor-
respond with those of the Aryan race ?

The questions raised by the similarity between Aryan
folk-tales on the one hand, and African folk-tales on the
other, have not yet been seriously considered by mytho-
logists.* When Mr. Max Midler wrote (0/i^>s, ii. 211)
on Dr. Callaway's Zulu Mdrchen, he had only the first
part of the collection before him. As the learned writer
observed, much more material was required ; we wanted
more Zulu tales, and other tales from members of the
same great South African race, for purposes of com-
parison. We still need, for comparative purposes, much
larger collections of savage instances than we possess.
But these collections are amassed slowly, and it has
seemed well, for our present end, to make use of the
materials at hand. If comparatively scanty in quantity,
they are very remarkable in character. From Africa
we have " Nursery Tales, Traditions, and Histories of
the Zulus, in their own words, with a translation into
English, and notes," by the Rev. Canon Callaway, M.D.
(Triibner, London, 1868.) We have also Dr. Bleek's

* Dr. Reinhold Kohler informs the author that he has written
nothing on the Mdrcheri of savages. Felix Liebrecht has used a few
Zulu and Maori examples in Zur Volkskimde (Heilbroun, 1879). Some
remarks on these topics, disavowing the theory that any one single
source of myth can be discovered, will be found in Mr. Max Miiller's
preface to Mr. Gill's Myths and Songs of the South Pacific. Mr.
Ralston (Nineteenth Century, Nov. 1879) says that " the popular tales
which are best known to us possess but few counterparts in genuine
savage folk-lore," though he admits that some incidents are common
both to European and uncivilised Mdrchen. We trust to shew, how-
ever, that the common incidents, and even plots, are unexpectedly
numerous.

Xlviii INTRODUCTION.

Bushman Folk-lore (Triibner, 1875), and his Reynard the
Fox in Afiica, and Steere's Sivahili Tales. Madagascar is
represented by the collections of the Rev. James Sibree,
published in the Folk Lore Record (1883). Some Basuto
tales are given by Casalis (Xes Bassoiitos, ou 23 ans de sejour
au Slid de VAfrique, 1860). Some Ananzi stories from West
Africa are printed in Sir George Dasent's Tales from
the Norse (1859). From the Kaffirs we derive Theal's
Kaffir Folk-l&re (Sonnenschein, London, n.d.). Mr. Gill
has given us some South Sea examples in his Myths
and Songs from the South Pacific. (London, 1876.*) The
Folk Lore Society of South Africa, in a little j)eriodical
now extinct, gave other African examples. Jiilg's Kal-
.miickische Mdrchen are Indian in origin. Schoolcraft and
his associates collected North American Indian examples
in Algic Researches. Samoyed Mdrchen have been pub-
lished by Castren (Fthnologisclie Vorlesimgen, St. Peters-
burg, 1857) ; and examples of Mdrchen^ magnified and
elaborated, occur in Japanese mythology (^Transactions
of Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. x.); in New Zealand
Myths (Taylor's New Zealand) : and in the accounts
of Melanesian and Andaman myth, by Mr. Codrington and
other writers, in the Journal of the Anthropological
Institute. While Mr. Mitford has given us Tales of
Old Japan, Prof. Hartt has collected the Mdrchen of
the Indians on the Amazon. Rink has published those
of the Eskimo ; and scattered examples are to be found
in Bancroft's large compilation on the Native Races of
the Pacific, and in the old Relations of the Jesuit fathers and
other missionaries. Thus there are gleanings which may
be provisionally used as samples of a large harvest of
savage children's tales. The facts already in our
possession are important enough to demand attention,
particularly as the savage tales (in Africa especially)
* Turner's Samoa (1884) also contains some South Sea Mdrchen.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. xlix

correspond, as will be shewn, so closely with the European
and Aryan examples.

Here then, in the volumes named, we have a gleaning
at least, from the harvest of savage Mdrchen. The names
of most of the collectors will be to anthropologists, if not
to all etymologists, a guarantee of their accuracy. Here,
too, it may be observed, that a race so non-Aryan as the
ancient Egj^ptians possessed Household Tales identical
(in " unnatural " incident, and to a great extent in plot)
with our own (Maspero, Conies Egi/ptiens).

It will be shown later that the ideas, stock incidents
and even several of the plots of savage and other non-
Aryan Household Tales are identical with the ideas,
incidents, and plots of Aryan Mdrchen. It will also be
shown that in the savage Mdrchen, the ideas and incidents
are the inevitable result of the mental habits and beliefs
of savages. The inference will be that the similar features
in European tales are also derived from the savage
conditions of the intellect. By " savages " we here mean
all races from the Australians and Bushmen to such
American tribes as the Algonquins, and such people as
the Maoris. In this great multitude of stocks there are
found many shades of nascent civilisation, many degrees of
*' culture." But the races to whom we refer are all so far
savage, that they display the characteristic feature of the
savage intellect.

Before taking another step, we must settle the question
of evidence as to savage ideas. We have ourselves criti-
cised severely the evidence offered by certain mythologists,
without, however denying that they may possess more than
they offer. It is natural and necessary that we, in turn,
should be asked for trustworthy testimony. How do we
know anything about the ideas of savages ? How can we
pretend to understand anything about the nature of the
savage imagination ? The philological school of mytholo-

yoL. I. d

1 INTRODUCTION.

gists, about whose scanty show of proof we have complained,
are conscientiously desirous that our evidence should be
full and trustworthy. Now, according to Mr. Max Miiller,
the materials which we possess for the study of savage
races " are often extremely untrustworthy " (India and
wTiat it can Teach us). This remark, or its equivalent, is
constantly repeated, when any attempt is made to study
the natural history of man. M. Eeville, on the other
hand, declares with truth that our evidence is chiefly
embarrassing by the very wealth of documents. (Les
religions des Peuples non Civilises). We naturally side
with M. Eeville.

Consider for a moment what our evidence as to the life
and ideas of savages is ; our evidence, in the first jDlace,
from the lips of civilised eyewitnesses. It begins with
the Bible, which is rich in accounts of early religious
ideas, animal worship, stone worship, ritual, taboos on
articles of food ; marriage customs and the like. Then
we have Herodotus, with his descriptions of savage
manners, myths, and customs. Next come all the innu-
merable Greek and Roman geographers, and many of the
historians and general writers, Aristotle, Strabo, Pliny,
Plutarch, Ptolemy, and dozens of others. For the New
World, for Asia, for Africa, we ha;Ve the accounts of
voyagers, merchants, missionaries, from the Arab travel-
lers in the East to Marco Polo, to Sahagun, to Bernal Diaz,
to Garcilasso de la Vega, to Hawkins, to all the Spanish
travellers, and the Portuguese, to Hakluyt's men ; we have
the Jesuits, with their Belations Edifiantes ; we have
evangelists of every Christian church and sect ; we have
travellers of every grade of learning and ignorance, from
shipwrecked beech-combers to Nordenskiold and Mosele3%
Now from Leviticus to the Cruise of the Challenger, from
Herodotus to Mariner, nay, from the Rig- Veda to Fison
and Howitt, we possess a series of independent documents

HOUSEHOLD TALES. ll

on savage customs and belief, whether found among
actual savages or left as survivals in civilisation. These
documents all coincide 6n certain points, and establish, we
venture to say, with evidence that would satisfy any jury,
the ancient existence of certain extraordinary savage
customs, myths, ideas, and rites of worship. These ideas
and rites are still held and practised by savages, and
seem natural to their state of mind. Thus the coin-
cident testimony of a cloud of witnesses, through three,
thousand years, establishes the existence of certain savage
beliefs and rites, in every quarter of the globe. Doubt-
less in each instance the evidence must be carefully
scrutinised. In matters of religion, missionaries may be
witnesses biassed in various ways, they may want to make
out that the savage has no religion at all, or that he is a
primitive methodist.* The scientific explorer may have
a sceptical bias : the shipwrecked mariner who passes
years with a savage tribe, may be sceptical or orthodox,
or may have his report tinged by the questions put to him
on his return to civilisation. Again, savages take pleasure
in lipaxing their catechists, and once more, the questions
put by the European may suggest answers appropriate
but wholly false. Therefore in examining the reports as
to savage character, we must deal cautiously with the
evidence. If our witness be as candid, logical, and fair as
Dr. Bleek, Mr. Codrington, Mr. Orpen, Mr. Gill, Egede,
Dr. Eink, Dobrizhoffer, or a score of other learned
missionaries and explorers, we may yield him some con-
fidence. If he be tinged and biassed more or less by
scientific theories, philological or anthropological, let us
allow somewhat for the bias ; ]3i'obably we must allow still

* Compare the monotheism of Mr. Ridley's Kamilaroi (Kamilaroi
and other Australian Languages, p. 135), with Mr. Howitt's remarks
{Kamilaroi and Kurnai, p. 254;. Mr. Howitt thinks that the Mission-
aries have connected the idea of a God with the Austrahan Trinity of
mere demons, Brewin, Bullamdut, and Baukan.

d 2

lii INTRODUCTION.

more in our own case. If the witness be nnleamed, we have,
at least, the probability that ho is not transplanting to
Otaheite or to Queensland ideas and customs which he
has read about in Herodotus or Strabo, or theories of
Miiller or McLennan.* Lastly, if all evidence from all
quarters and all ages, evidence learned and unlearned,
ancient, mediaeval, and modern agrees in certain points,
and if many of the witnesses express surprise at the
occurrence of customs and notions, which our reading
shows to be almost universal, then let the undesigned
coincidence itself stand for confirmation. To our mind
this kind of treatment of evidence is not unscientific. It
is permitted to investigators, like Darwin and Romanes.
Mr. Max Miiller, however, is so far from being satisfied
with the method ( as we have stated it) that he draws a
line between what will content the scholar, and what tho
ethnologist will put up with. Mr. Miiller's criticism
deserves quotation in full (^Nineteenth, Century, Jan. 1882) :
" Comparative mythology is chiefly studied by two
classes — by scholars and by anthropologists. Now the
true scholar who knows the intricacies of a few
languages, who is aware of the traps he has to avoid in
exploring their history, who in fact has burnt his fingers
again and again when dealing with Greek, and Latin, and
Sanskrit, shrinks by a kind of instinct from materials
which crumble away as soon as critical scholarship
attempts to impart to them a certain cohesion and polish.
These materials are often supplied by travellers ignorant
of the language, by missionaries strongly biassed in one
direction or the other, or by natives who hardly under-

* " Illiterate men, i,2:norant of the writings of each other, bring the
same reports fr<»m various quarters of the globe." So tlie author of
the Origin of Rank (Prof. Millar, of Glasgow) wrote in the last cen-
tury. This argument from undesigned coincidence, or recurrence,
must be faced by people who deny the adequateness of anthropological
evidence.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. liii

stood the questions they were asked to answer. A very
useful collection was made some time ago by Mr. Tylor to
show the untrust worthiness of the accounts of most trav-
ellers and missionaries, when they give us their impres-
sions of the languages, religions, and traditions of races
among whom they lived for a longer or shorter time.
The same people who by one missionary are said to
worship either one or man}' gods, are declared by another
to have no idea and no name of a Divine Being. But,
what is stranger still, even the same person sometimes
makes two equally confident assertions which flatly con-
tradict each other." Several examples of these inconsis-
tencies are quoted.

Any reader of this passage might naturally suppose
that Mr. Tylor thought our materials for the study of
savage religions, language, and traditions quite untrust-
worthy. If Mr. T^^lor really thought thus, we might
abandon any attempt to explain mythology and customs
by the study of savages. But as Mr. Tylor has devoted
several chapters of Primitive Culture to examining the
savage origins of mythology and religion, he apparently
does not think our evidence so very hopeless after all.
The passage in Mr. Tjdor's work to which Mr. Miiller
refers is (probably). Primitive Culture, i. 418, 419. Mr.
Tylor there remarks, " It is not unusual for the very
writer who declares in general terms the absence of reli-
gious j)henomena among some savage people, himself to
give evidence that shows his expressions to be misleading."
But, far from dismissing the whole topic as one on which
no anthropological reports can be trusted, Mr. Tylor goes
on to shew that the inconsistencies of evidence have chiefly
arisen from want of a definition of religion. The mission-
ary says, " the savage has no religion," meaning nothing
like what the missionary understands by religion. He
then proceeds to describe practices which, in the eyes of

liv , INTRODUCTION.

the anthropologist, are religious enough. Mr. Tylor
then discounts reports which are hasty, or made in
ignorance, and finds that there is still left that enormous
body of testimony on which he bases his theory of savage
philosophies, religions, and mythologies. Mr. Tylor, to
be brief, judges evidence by the tests we have already
proposed. The inquirer " is bound to use his best
judgment as to the trustworthiness of all the authors he
quotes . . . but it is over and above these measures ot
precautions that the test of recurrence comes in." By
" recurrence " Mr. Tylor means what we have called
" undesigned coincidence." Thus, " if two independent
visitors to different countries, say a mediaeval Mahomme-
dan in Tartary, and a modern Englishman in Dahome,
or a Jesuit missionary in Brazil, and a Wesleyan in the
Fijian Islands, agree in describing some analogousart or rite
or myth among the people they have visited, it becomes
difficult or impossible to set down such correspondence to
accident or wilful fraud " (Primitive Culture, i. 9.)

Such, then, are our tests of reported evidence. Both the
quantity and the quality of the testimony seem to justify
an anthropological examination of the origin of myths
and mdrchen. As to the savage ideas from which we
believe these mdrchen to spring we have yet stronger
evidence.*

We have the evidence of institutions. It may be hard
to understand what a savage thinks, but it is comparatively
easy to know what he does. Now the whole of savage
existence, roughly speaking, is based on and swayed by
two great institutions. The first is the division of society
into a number of clans or stocks. The marriage laws of

* Mr. Ealstoii (Nineteenth Century, Nov. 1879) seems to think that
the historical interpreters of mdrchen wish to resolve all incidents into
traces of actual customs. But traces of customs are few, compared
with survivals of ideas, or states of opinion, or " wild beliefs " of which
Mr. RalstoQ (p. 852, loc. cit.) himself contributes an example.

HOUSEHOLD TALES. Iv

savages depend on the conception that these stocks
descend from certain plants, animals, or inorganic objects.
As a rule no man and woman believed to be connected by-
descent and blood kinship with the same animal, plant,
stone, natural phenomenon, or what not, can intermarry.
This law is sanctioned by severe, sometimes by capital,
punishment. Now about the evidence for this institution
there can be no mistake. It has been observed by tra-
vellers in North and South America, in Australia, Samoa,
India, Arabia, in Northern Asia, and in West and South
Africa. The observations were obviously made without
collusion or intention to support a scientific theory, for
the scientific importance of the institution was not
perceived till about 1870.*

The second institution of savage life, from which the
nature of savage ideas maybe deduced, is the belief in magic
and in " medicine-men." Everywhere we find Australians,
Maoris, Eskimo, old Irish, Fuegians, Brazilians, Samoyeds,
Iroquois, and the rest, showing faith in certain jugglers
or wizards of their own tribe. They believe that these
men can turn themselves or their neighbours into animal
shapes ; f that they can go down into the abodes of the
dead ; that they can move inanimate objects by incan-
tations ; that they can converse with spirits, and magically
cure or inflict diseases. This belief declares itself in the in-
stitutions of untutored races; the sorcerer has a considerable
share in what may be called political and priestly power.

* The first writer who collected examples of these facts was Mr.
McLennan. (' The Worship of Plants and Animals,' Fortnightly Re-
view, 1869).

t Mr. Kalston writes (' Beauty and the Beast,' Nineteenth Century,
Dec. 1878), " The weie-wolf stands alone." But a reference to the
article on Lykanthropy {Encydop. Britann.) will shew that sorcerers
are believed to be capable of transforming either themselves or their
neighbours into all manner of animals. The wolf is only the beast
most commonly selected for purposes of transformation in Europe.
Lions, tigers, crocodiles, birds, are quite as frequent in other parts of
the world.

Ivi INTRODUCTION.

We have now unfolded the character of onr evidence.
It is based, first on the testimony of innumerable reports
corroborated by recurrence or coincidence; next on the
testimony of institutions.

If this evidence seems inadequate, what have we to fall
back upon ? Merely the conjectures of philologists ; we
must follow the star of etymological guesses after which
our fathers, the old antiquaries, went wandering. It may
be said, with truth, that modern philology has a method
far more scientific and patient than the random practice
of old etymology. Granted, but a glance at the various
philological interpretations, for example, of Greek myth-
ical names, will shew that philologists still differ on
most mythical points where difference is possible. When
applied to the interpretation of the past of human thought
and human history, philology is a most uncertain guide.
Thus, Schrader observes (SprachvergleicJiung und Urgeschichte^
p. 431), that comparative philology has as yet contributed
very little certain knowledge to the study of mythology.
In the region of history, as he shews, the best philologists
contradict each other and themselves, as to the metals
possessed by the early Aryans. Yet philology is the
science which claims possession of " the only method that
can lead to scientific results," results which differ with
the views of each individual scholar.

We are now able to prove, from the social and political
/institutions of savages, their belief in human descent fron.
animals, in kinship with animals, in powers of meta-
morphosis, in the efficacy of incantations, and in the
possibility of communion with the dead. Savages also
believe in the possibility of " personal intercourse between
man and animal, " the savage man's idea of the nature
of those lower animals is very different from the civilised
man's" (Tylor, Primitive Culture, i. 467 ; ii. 230). Mr.
\ Tylor gives many curious obf/Crvances, as proofs of the

HOUSEHOLD TALES. IVll

• existence of these wild conceptions. We may add that
savages believe the human soul passes into animal shapes
at death, and that women may bear animal children.

Similar views prevail about inanimate nature. " To the
savage all nature seems animated, all things are persons."
We have already seen that Sir George Cox assumed this
state of thought in the makers of his " primary " myths.
" To the Indian all objects animate and inanimate seem
exactly of the same nature, except that they differ in the
accident of bodily form." (Im Thurn, Indians of Guiana,
p. 350).

Other savage ideas may be briefly explained. Among
savages many harmless and necessary acts are " taboo'd *
or forbidden for some mystic or ceremonial reason.

Again, the youngest child in polygamous families is
apt to be the favourite and heir. Animals of miraculous
power are supposed to protect men and women. Canni-
balism is not unknown in practice, and, as savages
seldom eat members of their own tribe, alien tribes are
regarded as cannibals. Further, various simple moral
ideas are inculcated in savage tales. We may now offer
a shoit list of savage ideas, and compare each idea with
an incident in a savage and in a civilised Household Tale.* '

1. Savage Idea.
Belief in kinship, ivith Animals

Savage Tale. European Tale.

Woman marries an elephant Man weds girl whose brothers are
Woman marries a whale. ravens.

Woman gives birth to crows Queen accused of bearing puppies
Man marries a beaven or cats.

Girl wooed by frog. Girl marries a frog.

Girl marries serpent. Girl marries a tick.

Man marries a frog.

* The authorities for the existence of these ideas, customs, and beliefs,
with references for the tales based on the beliefs and customs, will bo
found at the end of this Introduction.,

Iviii

INTKODUCTION.

2. Savage Idea.
Belief in Metamorphosis

Savage Tale.

Hero becomes Insect.
Hero becomes Bird.
Hero becomes Mouse,
( J iris become Birds.

3. Savage Idea.

A. Inanimate objects obey incanta-
tions, and speali.

Savage Tale.

Hero uses incantations with suc-
cess.

B. Inanimate objects may speak.
Savage Tale.
Drops of spittle speak.

4. Savage Idea.

Animals help favoured Men and
Women.

Savage Tale,

Hero is helped by Ox.
Heroes helped by Wolf.

5. Savage Idea.
Cannibals are a constant danger.

Savage Tale.

Hero and Heroine are captured by

Cannibals.
Hero or Heroine flees from home to

avoid being eaten.

6. Savage Idea.

The belief in possible descents
into Hades, a place guarded by
strange beasts, and where living
men must not eat.

Savage Tale.

Descent by a Melanesian.
His adventures.
Descent by an Odjibwa.
His adventures.

European Tale,

Hero becomes Worm.
Heroes become Bu-ds.
Hero becomes Roebuck.
Girls become Birds.

European Tale,

Hero uses incantations with suc-
cess.

European Tale,
Drops of spittle speak.

"European Tale,

Heroine is helped by Bull.
Heroine is helped by Sheep.
Hero is helped by various Beasts.

European Tale,

Hero and Heroine are captured by

Cannibals.
Hero or Heroine flees from home to

avoid being eaten.

European Tale.

Descent of Psyche.
Her similar adventures.

HOUSEHOLD TALES.

iix

7. Savage Custom.

Husband and wife are furbidden to
see each other, or to name each
other's names.

Savage Tale.

^Yife disappears (but not apparently
because of infringement of taboo).

"VVife disappears after infringement
of taboo.

European Tale,

Husband or wife disappear when
seen, or when the name is
named. (These acts being pro-
hibited by savage custom.)

8. Savage Custom.

The youngest son in the Polygamous
family is the heir.

Savage Tale.

King's youngest son, as heir, is en-
vied and ill-treated by his
brothers.

9. Savage Idea. A.

Human strength, or soul, resides in
this or that part of the body, anti
the strength of one man may be
acquired by another who secures
this part. ,

Savage Tale.

Certain Giants take out their hearts
when they sleep, and are over-
come by men who secure the
hearts.

Savage Idea. B.
Souls of dead enter animal forms.

Savage Tale.
Dead Boy becomes a Bird.

European Tale.

Youngest son or daughter succeeds
where the elders fail, and is be-
trayed by jealousy of the elders.

European Tale.

The Giant who has no heart in his
body.

The man whose life or force de-
pends on a lock of hair, and is
lost when the hair is lost.

European Tale.
Dead Boy becomes a Bird.

The lists now furnislied exhibit several of the leadino-

o

and most " unnatural " ideas in European Household
Tales, It has been shown that these ideas are also found
in savage Household Tales. It has further been demon-
strated that the notions on which these incidents are

IX INTRODLCTION.

based are as natural to, and as common among, savages
as they seem " unnatural" to the modern civilised student
of Aryan dialects. The conclusion appears to follow
inevitably, that the incidents of ravage stories are derived
from the beliefs and ideas of savages, while the identical
incidents in civilised tales are an inheritance, a survival
from a past of savagery. If we are not to believe this,
we must first reject the evidence ofiered as untrustworthy,
and next explain the phenomena as the result of forget-
fulness of the meaning of words, and of other linguistic
processes for which, as we have shewn, the evidence is
neither copious, nor unimpeachable, nor to the point.

fAt the beginning of this essay we remarked that
Household Tales consist of but few incidents, in an
immense variety of combinations. To the incidents
? already enumerated, we may add such as spring from
a few simple moral conceptions. Thus, among savages
as in Europe, the duty of good temper and courtesy is
illustrated by the tale of the good girl, or boy, who
y succeeded in enterprises where the bad girl or boy failed
as a punishment of churlishness or disobedience. Again,
in savage as well as civilised tales, curiosity in forbidden
matters is punished, as in all the stories of opening a
taboo'd door, or tampering with matters taboo' d. Once
more the impossibility of avoiding Fate is demonstrated in
such tales as " The Sleeping Eeauty," the unborn child
who is exposed to make of no effect an evil prophecy, and
so forth. Again, the folly of hasty words is set forth in
stories of the type of Jeptha's foolish vow. By help
of such simple moral conceptions as these, and of super-
natural incidents which appear natural to the savage,
the web of Household Tales is woven.

There remain, however, features in Household Tales,
Bavage or civilised, which we do not even pretend to
explain. Why does the biipplanted bride, whose place

HOUSEHOLD TALES. 1x1

is taken by a false bride, appear so often ? What super-
stition is at the bottom of the incident of the lover ^vho
forgets his beloved after he has been kissed by his
mother or his hound? Why does the incident of the
deserted girl, who hides in a tree, and whose beautiful
face is seen reflected in a well beneath, occur so frequently
in countries as far apart as Scotland and Madagascar?
These are among the real difficulties of the subject.
A2:ain, while most of the incidents of Household Tales
are, as we have seen, easily accounted for, the tissue of
plot into which they are woven is by no means so readily
explained.

We may now examine, as briefly as possible, a famous
myth of the classical world, and point out its component
parts and stock ideas, which are scattered through the
Household Tales of the civilised and barbarous races.
For our present purpose the myth of Jason is as well
suited as any other.*

If our system be correct, the Jason myth is a heroic
legend, with a plot composed of incidents now localised,
and with characters now named, but the events were
originally told as happening in no particular place, and
the characters were originally mere " somebodies." The
Jason myth starts from the familiar situation common in
Household Tales. A Boeotian king (Athamas) has a wife,
Nephele, and two children, a boy and a girl, named
Phrixus (or Phryxus) and Helle. But Athamas takes a
a new wife or mistress, Ino, and she conspires against her
step-children. By intrigues, which it is needless to
explain, Ino procures a decree that Phrixus and Helle
shall be sacrificed to Zeus, this feature being a survival
from the ag-e of human sacrifice in Greece. As Phrixus
stood at the altar, Nephele brought forward a golden ram
which could speak. Phrixus and Helle mounted on the

* See " A Far Travelled Tale " in the author's Custom and Myth.

Ixii INTRODUCTION.

ram ; the beast flew eastwards ; Helle fell off, and was
drowned in the Hellespont; Phrixiis reached Colchis,
sacrificed the ram, dedicated the golden fleece in a temple,
and became the eponymous, or name-giving hero of
Phrygia (ApoUodorus, 1. ix. 1). The Scholiast, on Iliad
vii. 86, quotes the story, with some unimportant variations
from Philostephanus. He says that the ram met Phrixus
and revealed to him the plot against his life. The
Scholiast on Ajpoll. Wiod. 1. 256, gives Hecataeus as
authority for the ram's power of conversation. Apollonius
writes,

aXXa Kat avZrjv
avhpoixiiqv irpoerjKe KaKov repa?.

The classical writers were puzzled by the talkative
ram, but to students of Household Tales the surprise
would be if the ram did not speak. According to De
Gubernatis, the ram is the cloud or the sun, or a mixture ;
" the sun in the cloud butts with its rays until it opens
the stable and its horns come out." And so forth.

We may now compare Household Tales which contain
unlocalised versions of the early incidents in the Jason
myth. The idea of the earlier incidents is that children,
oppressed or threatened at home, escape by aid of an
animal, or otherwise, and begin a series of adventures.
The peculiar wrong from which the children escape, in
the classic and heroic myth, is human sacrifice. In the
Household Tales, on the other hand, they usually run away
to escape being eaten. As human sacrifice is generally a
survival of cannibalism, and is often found clinging to
religion after cannibalism has died out of custom, it is
only natural that the religious rite should be found in
the classic myth, the savage custom in savage tales, and
in the household stories which we regard as survivals of
savagery. In the following Household Tales, the children
flee from home like Phrixus and Helle, to escape

HOUSEHOLD TALES. Ixiii

being eaten, sometimes by a step-mother, sometimes by
a mother, while in the most civilised version they only
run away from a step-mother's ill-treatment.

Our first example is from Samojedische Mdrclien (Castren.
p. 164). Here the childless wife intends to devour the
daughters of her rival, whom she has slain. The
daughters escape, and when they reach the sea, they
are carried across not by a golden ram, but by a
beaver. The Epirote version of the story is given
by Von Hahn (^Gr. Mar. i. 65). A man brings home a
pigeon for dinner, the cat eats it ; the wife, to con-
ceal the loss of the pigeon, cooks one of her own
breasts ; the husband relishes the food, and proposes
to kill his own two children and eat them. Exactly as
the ram warned Phrixus, according to Philostephanus, so
the dog warns the boy hero of the Epirote mdrclien, and
he and his sister make their escape. The tale then shades
off into one of the mdrclien of escape by magical devices,
which are the most widely diffused of all stories. But
these incidents recur later in the Jason legend. Turning
from the Samoyeds and the Epirotes to Africa, we find the
moh/ (escape of brother and sister) in a Kaffir tale, " Story
of the Bird that made Milk." Here the children flee
into the desert to avoid the anger of their father, who
had " hung them on a tree that projected over a river."
The children escape in a magical manner, and intermarry
with animals (Theal's Kaffir Folk Lore^ p. 36). Finally,
among the Kaffirs, we find a combination of the form of
the stories as they occur in Grimm (ii. 15). Grimm's
version opens thus, " Little brother took his little sister
by the hand and said, ' Since our mother died our step-
mother beats us every day . . . come, we will go forth
into the wide world.' " The Kaffir tale (Demane and
Demazana) tells how a brother and sister who were twins
and orphans were obliged on account of ill-usage to run

Ixiv INTRODUCTION". "

away from. their relatives. Like Hansel and Grethel they
fall into the hands of cannibals, and escape by a ruse. Ip
their flight they are carried over the water, neither by
a ram nor a beaver, but by a white duck.

Here, then, we see how widely diffused are the early
ideas and incidents of the Jason cycle. We see, too, tha^
they are consistent with the theory of a savage origin, ii
cannibalism be a savage practice, and if belief in talking
and protective animals be a savage belief.

The Ja>on myth proceeds from the incidents of the

flight of the children, and enters a new cycle of ideas and

events. We come to incidents which may be arranged

thus:

^^ 1. The attempt to evade prophecy. (Compare Zulu

"Tales, p. 41).

2. The arrival of the true heir.

3. Endeavour to get rid of the heir by setting him upon
a difficult or impossible adventure. (Callaway's Zulu TaleSy
p. 170).

4. The hero starts on the adventure, accompanied by
friends possessed of miraculous powers. (Compare Kale-
wala).

In the Jason Legend the true heir is Jason himself.
His uncle, Pelias, the usurper of his kingdom, has been
warned by prophecy to guard against a one-shoe'd man.
Jason has lost one shoe crossing the river. His uncle, to
get rid of him, sends him to seek, in far away Colchis,
the golden fleece of the talking ram. He sets forth in a
boat with a talking figure-head, and accompanied by
heroes of supernatural strength, and with magical powers
of seeing, hearing, and flying.

All these inventions are natural, and require no com-
ment. The companions of the hero, " Quick Sight," '• Fine
Ear " and the rest, are well known in European House-
hold Tales, where their places are occasionally taken by

HOUSEHOLD TALES. Ixv

gifted beasts. The incident of the expedition, the com-
panions, and the quest in general, recurs in the Kalewala,
the national poem of the Finns. When Jason with his
company arrive in Colchis, we enter on a set of incidents
perhaps more widely diflused than any others in the
whole of folk-lore. Briefly speaking, the situation is this :
an adventurer comes to the home of a powerful and
malevolent being. He either is the brother of the wife
of this being, or he becomes the lover of his daughter.
In the latter case, the daughter helps the adventurer to
accomplish the impossible tasks set him by her father.
Afterwards the pair escape, throwing behind them, in
their flight, various objects which detain the pursuer.
When the adventurer is the brother of the wife of the
malevolent being, the story usually introduces the " fee
fo, fum " formula, — the husband smells the flesh of the
stranger. In this variant, tasks are not usually set to
the brother as they are to the lover. The incidents of
the flight are much the same everywhere, even when, as
in the Japanese and Lithuanian myths a brother is fleeing
from the demon-ghost of his sister in Hades, or when, as in
the Samoyed tale, two sisters are evading the pursuit of a
cannibal step-mother. The fugitives always throw small
objects behind them, such as a comb, which magically
turns into a forest, and so forth.

We have already alluded to the wide diffusion of these
incidents, which recur, in an epic and humanised form, in
the Jason myth. By way of tracing the incidents from
their least civilised to their Greek shape, we may begin
with the Nama version. It is a pretty general rule that
in the myths of the lower races, animals fill the roles
which, in civilised story, are taken by human beings.
In Bleek's Hottentot Fables and Tales, p. 60, the inci-
dents turn on the visit of brothers to a sister, not on
the coming of an adventurous lover. The sister has

VOL. I. ^

Ixvi INTRODUCTION.

married, not a wizard king, nor even a giant, but an
elephant. The woman hides her brothers, the elephant
" smells something." In the night, the woman escapes,
with all the elephant's herds except three kine, which she
instructs to low as loud as if they were whole flocks.
These beasts then act like the " talking spittle," in Gaelic
and Zulu, and like the chattering dolls in the Eussian
tale. The woman bids a rock open, she and her brothers
enter, and when the elephant comes the rock closes on
him, like the " Rocks Wandering," or clashing rocks, in
the Odj^ssey, and he is killed. In the Eskimo Tale
(Rink, 7) two brothers visit a sister married to a cannibal,
but she has become a cannibal too. A tale much more
like the Hottentot story of the Nama woman is the
Eskimo " Two Girls " (Rink 8). One of the girls married,
not an elephant, but a whale. To visit her, her two
brothers built a boat of magical speed. In their company
the woman fled from the whale. But instead of leaving
magical objects, or obediently lowing animals behind her,
she merely tied the rope by which the whale usually fast-
ened her round a stone. The whale discovered her absence,
pursued her, and was detained by various articles which
she threw at him. Finally she and her brothers escaped,
and the whale was transformed into a piece of whale-bone.
In the Samoyed story (Castren. 11) the pursuit of the
cannibal is delayed by a comb which the girl throws
behind her, and which becomes " a thick wood ; " other
objects tossed behind become rivers and mountains. The
same kind of feats are performed during the flight, in a
story from Madagascar {Folk-lore Becord, Aug. 1883), a
story which, in most minute and curious detail of plot,
resembles the Scotch " Nicht, Nocht, Nothing," the Russian
" Tsar Morskoi," and the Gaelic " Battle of the Birds." In
Japan, as among the Samoyeds, the hero (when followed
by the Loathly Lady of Hades) throws down his comb,

HOUSEHOLD TALES. Ixvii

and it turns into bamboo sprouts, which naturally check
her in her approach (Tra7is. Asiat. Soc. of Japan, vol. x.
p. 36). The Zulu versions will be found in Callaway,
pp. 51, 90, 145. In the Eussian Tale (Ealston, p. 120),
we find that the adventurer is not the brother of the wife
of an animal, but the lover of the daughter of the Water
King. By her aid he accomplishes the hard tasks set
him, and he escapes with her, not by throwing objects
behind, but by her magical gift of shape-shifting. The
story takes the same form in the old Indian collection of
Somadeva (cf. Kohler, Orient und Occident, ii. pp. 107-
114. Ealston, pp. 132, 133). The father of the maiden in
the Indian version is both animal and giant, a Eakshasa,
who can fly about as a crane. In Grimm (51) the girl
and her lover flee, by the aid of talking drops of blood,
from a cruel witch step-mother. The best German
parallel to the incidents of the adventurer's success in
love, success in performing the hard tasks, and flight with
the girl, is Grimm's " Two Kings' Children " (110). The
Scotch version is defective in the details of the flio-ht.
( NicJit, NougJit, Nothing^ collected by the present writer, and
published, with notes by Dr. Kohler, in Bevue Celtique, vol.
iii. 3, 4.)

It is scarcely necessary to show how the incidents
which we have been tracing are used in the epic of
Jason. He himself is the adventurer ; the powerful and
malevolent being is the Colchian King ^etes, the
daughter of the king, who falls in love with the adventurer,
is Medea. Hard tasks, as usual, are set the hero ; just as
in the Kalewala, Ilmarinen is compelled to plough the
adder-close with a plough of gold, to bridle the wolf and
the bear of Hades, and to catch the pike that swims in the
waters of forgetfulness. The hard tasks in the Highlands
and in So'ith Africa may be compared. (Campbell, ii. 328 ;
Cctllaway, 470). Instead of sowing dragons' teeth, the

Ixviii INTRODUCTION.

Zulu boy lias to " fetch the liver of an Ingogo," a fabulous
monster. When the tasks have been accomplished, the
adventurer and the king's daughter, Jason and Medea, flee,
as usual, from the wrath of the king, being aided (again
as usual) by the magic of the king's daughter. And what
did the king's daughter throw behind her in her flight, to
delay her father's pursuit ? Nothing less than the mangled
remains of her own brothers. Other versions are given :
that of ApoUonius Ehodius (iv. 476, cf. Scholia) contains
a curious account of a savage expiatory rite performed by
Jason. But Grote (ed. 1869, i. 232) says, "So revolting a
story as that of the cutting up of the little boy cannot
have been imagined in later times." Perhaps, however,
the tale, though as old as Pherecydes, is derived from a
Folk-etymology of the place called Tomi (rijxviji). While
the wizard king mourned over the cast-away fragments of
his boy, the adventurer and the king's daughter made
their escape. The remainder of the Jason legend is
chiefly Greek, though some of the wilder incidents (as
Medea's chaldron) have their parallels in South Africa.
^ We have now examined a specimen of the epic legends
of Greece. We have shown that it is an arrangement,
with local and semi-historical features, of a number of
incidents, common in both savage and European HoiTsehold
Tales. Some moments in the process of the arrangement,
for example, the localising of the scene in Colchis, and the
attachment of the conclusion to the fortunes of the Corin-
thian House, are discussed by Grote (i. 244). Grote tries
to show that the poetic elaboration and arrangement were
finished between 600 and 500 B.C. Whatever the date
may have been, we think it probable that the incidents of
the Jason legend, as preserved in mdrchen^ are much older
than the legend in its epic Greek form. We have also
shown that the incidents for the most part occur in the
tales of savages, and we believe that they are the natural

HOUSEHOLD TALES. Ixix

expressions of the savage imagination. We have not
thought it necessary to explain (with Sir George Cox)
the mutilation of the son of ^etes as a myth of sunset
(Ar. Myth, i. 153) " a vivid image of the young sun^ as
torn to pieces among the vapours that surround him,
while the light, falling in isolated patches on ^ the sea,
seems to set bounds to the encroaching darkness." Is the
"encroaching darkness" iEetes? But ^etes, in myth,
was the son of the Sun, while Sir George Cox recognises
him as " the breath or motion of the air." * Well, Jason
was (apparently) the Sun, and Apsyrtus is the young Sun,
and Medea is the Dawn, and Helle is the evening Air, and
Phryxus is the cold Air, and the fleece is the Sunlight, and
^etes is the breath of the air, and the child of the Sun, and
why they all behave as they do in the legend is a puzzle
which we cannot pretend to unravel.

Did space permit, we might offer analyses of other
myths. The Odyssey we have dealt with in the introduc-
tion to our prose translation (Butcher and Lang ed. 1883).
The myths of Perseus and of Urvasi and Pururavas may
be treated in a similar way.f As to the relations between
the higher myths and Mdrchen, civilised or savage, there is
this to be said : where the Mdrchen is diffused among many
distinct races, while the epic use of the same theme is
found only among one or two cultivated peoples, it is

* While ^etes is the " hrcath or motion of the air " with Sir George
Cox in the opinion of Mr. Brown (The Myth of Kirke), Metes is
Lunus, and forms with Circe " an androgynous Moon, i.e., the ascrip-
tion of both male and female potentialities to the lunar power.
Medea is the Moon, too, with Mr. Brown, while Sir George Cox writes,
"Medeia herself appears in benignant guise in the legend of the
Goose-o-irl at the Well (the Dawn-maiden with her snow-white
clouds^') (^r. Myth,i. 429). Wliere incidents maybe explained by
fanciful guesses at the etymology of words, every scholar has an equal
ri'^ht to his own interpretations. Each may see the moon, where
another finds the sun, or the wind, or the cloud. But the conflicting
guesses destroy «ich otlier. , , ^ ^

t See " Cupid, Psyche, and the Sun-Frog " in the author s Custom
and Myth.

Ixx INTRODUCTION.

probable that the Mdrchen is older than the cultivated
epic. Again, when the popular tale retains references to
the feats of medicine men, to cannibalism, to metamorpho-
sis, and to kinship with beasts, all of which are suppressed
or smoothed down in the epic form of the story, these
omissions strengthen the belief that the epic is later than
the tale, and has passed through the refining atmosphere
of a higher civilisation.

As to the origin of the wild incidents in Household
Tales, let any one ask himself this question : Is there any-
thing in the frequent appearance of cannibals, in kinship
with animals, in magic, in abominable cruelty, that would
seem unnatural to a savage ? Certainly not ; all these
. things are familiar in his world. Do all these things occur
on almost every page of Grimm ? Certainly they do.
Have they been natural and familiar incidents to the
educated German mind during the historic age ? No one
will venture to say so. These notions, then, have survived
in peasant tales from the time when the ancestors of the
Germans were like Zulus or Maoris or Australians.

Finally, as to the diffusion of similar incidents in count ries
widely severed, that may be, perhaps, ascribed to the
identical beliefs of early man all over the world. But the
diffusion of^lots is much more hard to explain, nor do we
venture to explain it, except by the chances of trans-
mission in the long past of human existence. As to
the " roots " or " radicals " of stories, the reader who has
followed us will probably say, with Mr. Farrer (^Primitive
Manners, p. 257), " We should look, not in the clouds, but
upon the earth ; not in the various aspects of nature, but
in the daily occurrences and surroundings," he might have
added, in the current opinions and ideas, ** of savage
life."

HOUSEHOLD TALES Ixxi

NOTES.

These notes are intended to corroborate by reference
to authorities the statements on pp. 51-53.

I. — Belief in Kinship with Animals.

Marsden, Sumatra, p. 292 ; Brookes's Sarawak, i. 64 ; Australia :
Fison and Hewitt's Kamilaroi and Kurnai, p. 109 ; Grey's Travels,
ii. 225; Lang's Australian Aborigines, p, 10; Laws based on these
opinions, Kamilaroi and Kurnai, passim, Grey, ii. 226. Ashanti:
Bowditch's Mission, p. 180, 18L Aleuts and Koniagas of the North-
West Pacific Coast. Barrett Lenuard, pp. 54, 57 ; Dale's Alaska,
pp. 421, 422. Bancroft, iii. 104, quoting Bargoa, iii. 74. Lafitau,
Moeurs des Sauvageb, 467. For Peru, Garcilasso de la Vega.

Basutos. Casalis, p. 21L North Asia: Dalton, Trans. Eth. Soc. vi.
36. Latham, Descript. Ethn. i, 364. Strahlenberg on the Yakuts. Osages
of North America. Schoolcraft, iv. 221. Catlin, Letters, ii. 128.
Charlevoix, iii. 353 ; Schoolcraft, iv. 225, iv. 86, iii. 268. Kohl. p. 148,
4/i'«ca, Bechuanas, Livingstone Travels, p. 13. India, Dalton, Ethnol.
of Bengal, p. 63, p. 166, p. 189, p. 255. Melanesia, Codrington's
Journal. Anthrop. Inst. p. 305.

" Whilst Tawaki was of human form, his brethren were sharks ;
there were mixed marriages among them." (Taylor, New Zealand,
p. 136). For further information on this belief and its survivals in
civilised races, see McLennan's Worsliip of Plants and Animals
('Fortnightly Review,' 1869), and article Family (A. L.) in Ency-
clopaedia Britannica, also Early History of the Family {Contemp.
Rev. 1883).

I. Examples of Belief in Kinship with Animals found in
Household Tales.

Savage Tales. Girl wooed by a Frog {Zulu). Callaway, pp. 211,
237, 241, 248.

G rl marries a Pigeon (Zidu). Callaway, p. 71 (cf. note on fre-
quency of this idea).

Girl marries an Elephant (Hottentot). Bleek, p. 61.

Girl marries a Bird (Calnuck). Jiilg, No. 7.

Girls marry Eagles and Whales {Eskimo), Rink, 8, 9.

Man marries a Beaver (Kohl).

Ixxii INTRODUCTION.

European Tales.

Girl marries Pumpkin (WallacMan). (Schott, 23.)
Girl marries Goat {Russian). Afanasief, vi. 50 (Ap, Ealston).
Girl marries Frog (German). Grimm, 1 (some of the Tsimsheean
Indians of British Columbia believe that they are descended from a frog).
Girl marries Bear (Norse). Dasent (" East o' the Sun, West o' the .

Moon").

Man marries Frog (Russian). Afanasief, ii. 23. Ap. Ealston.

Girl marries Frog (Scotch). Chambers.

Man marries a Frog (Max Miiller, Chips, ii.)

Other examples might be given to any extent.

II. Belief in Metamorphosis into Animal, or into Inanimate

Object.

Examples of the belief in metamorpnosis are almost too common to

need citation. . ,. xt- ux

In the Introduction to his Translations of the Arabian Nights,
Mr. Lane says he found this belief in full force in Egypt, and he
naturally derives the frequency of metamorphosis in Arab stories from
the belief which he found at work among the people. As examples we
may select Tales of Old Japan (Mitford, passim), in Honduras (where,
as usual, sorcerers possess this power), Bancroft, i. 740. Lapland,
Reqnard (ap. Pinkerton, i. 471). Bushmen, Bleek (Brief Account, &c.,
pp 1.5, 40). Among the Abipones, Dobrizhofifer, Engl. Trans, i. 63.
Africa, Livingstone (Travels, p. 642). Mayas of Central America,
Bancroft, ii. 797. Thlinkeets (Dale's Alasha, p. 423). Moquis,
Schoolcraft, iv. 80. Aztecs, Sahagun, v. 13. Khonds. Campbell's
Narrative, p. 45. The Hos, and others, non-Aryan tribas of India.
Dalton, p. 200. Madagascar, Folk-Lore Journal, Oct. 1883.

It appears superfluous to give examples of metamorphosis from House-
hold Tales. In the stories of red men (Schoolcraft), black men (Tlieal,
Callaway, Bleek), yellow men (Julg), and white men, people are meta-
morphosed or transform their neighbours into birds, beasts, vegetables,
and stones.
HI. Savage Belief that Inanimate Objects obey Incantations.

This is proved by all the accounts of sorcerers, pow-wows, medicine-
men piays, and what not, in North and South America, Melanesia,
New Zealand, Africa, Siberia, and so forth. The idea had a strong
hold as is well known, on the imagination of the Greeks and
Konians In savage tales (Tavlor's New Zealand, p. 156 ; Schoolcraft's
AMc Researches), Blt^ek, Callaway, Theal (Kaffir Folk Tales, jp. 80),
all difficulties yield when the hero or heroine chants a snatch of verse.
Rocks open, streams dry up, supernatural beings appear, and so on.
It is needless to quote instances from civilised folk tales, from the
Scotch Rashin Coatie, to Grimm's " Little Snow-white " (53), and the
Russian Vasilissa, all the characters are obeyed by inanimate objects
when they repeat some lines of verse. The subordinate idea t^at

HOUSEHOLD TALES. Ixxiii

inanimate objects may speak is illustrated by the talking spittle.
(Zulu, Gaelic, Callaway, 64. Campbell, Battle of Birds).

IV. Savage Idea that Animals supernaturally aid Persons they

Favour.

Evidence for this belief will be found in the notes under I. If
animals are akin to men, it is only to be expected that they will assist
tlieir relations. A curious example of a kangaroo giving advice to a
human kinsman of his own in a dream, is printed by Mr. Fison in the
Journal Anthrop. Inst, Nov. 1883. In Australia, Sir George Grey
says that the animal with which a native claims kinship is his
" friend " or " protector " (Grey, Travels, ii. 323). An odd American
example is given by Long (Voyages, p. 86). In America each native
not only believed iti the beast which was akin to his clan, but selected
a special animal as his own manitou, or friendly spiritual power in a
material form. An instance is quoted in which the manitou (a duck),
of an Ojibway Indian, helped a crew of Ojibways to escape from their
enemies. Each Ojibway prayed to the beast, which was his manitou,
or animal patron saint (Dormau, Origin of Primitive Superstitions,
p. 271). Among the Eskimo not only are protecting animals common,
but magicians send a sort of magical animal (the Finnish Saivo) to
do their bidding. (Rink, p. 53.) The tornak, or familiar spirit and
helper of the Eskimo is usually in animal shape. In traditions of
civilised and semi-civilise 1 nations, Aztecs, Eomans, and others, the
animal, woodpecker, wolf, cow, or what not, which leads wandering
hosts to their destined homes, is a kind of manitou or, perhaps, a Tribal
Totem.

In Household Tales friendly animals occur very frequently. An
excellent example is given in the Mabinogion, where salmon, deer,
and ravens help the heroes. Huns and Grethel (Grimm, 15), are aided
bv a white duck, as in Cupid and Psyche, ants help the hero (The
Wiite Snake, Grimm, 17). Birds are equally serviceable to the hero
in the Scotch Nicht, Nocht, Nothing. A sava/e example from the
Eskimo occurs in Rink (1), a wolf (amaroTi) befriends the hero. The
"Bird that made Milk" (Theal 1) is an African example. Mice and
fr j^s are friendly and helpful in the ' Story of Five Heads ' (Theal,
p. VI). Among the Zulus " Ubabuze is lielped by a Mouse " (Calla-
way, p. 97). Beavers and sturgeons assist the girl in the Samoyed
legend (Castren. 2). In Russian, Emilian the Fool is aided by a
friendly pike (Ralston, p. 205); and every one knows how the little
fish saved Munu from the Flood in the Indian legend. More examples
are piobibly superfluous, they may be found by opening any collection
of Household Tales at random.

5. Savage Belief. Danger from Cannibals.

It would be pedantic to off"er " chapter and verse " for the prevalence
of cannibalism in savage countries. Mr. Tylor's article Cannibalism,
in the Encydopxdia Britannica, may be consulted by any scholars
who think our testimony on this point untrustworthy. It only

Ixxiv INTEODUCTION.

remains to note that cannibalism is the most frequent form of peril in
German and Modern Greek, and English and Indian, as in Zulu,
Hottentot, Eskimo, and Samoyed Household Tales. The appearance
of cannibalism in the stories of savages is perfectly natural. Why it
should occur so frequently in European tales (unless it be a survival)
it were difficult to explain. The ferocious cruelty of the punish-
ments inflicted on evil-doers in the European tales need not date
further back than the middle ages, which were vindictive enough in
their penalties.

6. The Savage Conception of Hades.

It is a place guarded by strange beasts. No living man may enter
there and return to the upper world if he has tasted the food of
Hell. The best known Household Tale on this topic is Cupid and
Psyche in Apuleius. Psyche's adventures in Hades fully agree with
Ojibway, Melanesian, Japanese, Maugaian, Maori, Etruscan, and
Finnisli descriptions of the homes of the departed {Kalewala.
Canto XVI. Taylor's New Zealand, p. 233. Codrington, ' Kelie:ious
Ideas of the Melanesians,' Journal Anthrop.-Inst., x. iii. Gill, Myths
of South Pacific, p. 102. Kohl (Ojibways), p. 211. It is to a pagan
Hades of the sort indicated in these references that people in Marchen
go, when in quest of " the Deil.")

q. Savage Customs. Restrictions on Meetings between Husband

AND Wife.

Among the strange taboos, or mystic prohibitions of harmless things
common to savage races, none are more frequent than taboos on the
intercourse of husband and wife. Sometimes they may not meet by
daylight, sometimes the wife may not name the husband. The old
Spartan rule which made a bridegroom visit his wife only by stealth,
was probably a survival from these taboos. As specimens of the
rules we may take Astley's Voyages, ii. 240. Wives in Futa never
permit their husbands to see them unveiled for three years after
marriage. Amongst the Yorubas, "conventional modesty forbids a
woman to speak to her husband, or even to see him if it can be
avoided." (Bowen, Central Africa, p. 303). Of the Iroquois, Lafitau
says, "lis n'osent aller dans les cabanes particulieres oil habitent
leurs epouses que durant I'obscurite' de la nuit " (Lafitau, i. 576).
The Circassian women have a similar scruple " till they have borne a
child " (Lubbock, O. C. 1875, p. 75). Similar examples are reported
from Fiji. In the Bulgarian ballad (Dozon, p. 172), the woman tells
her daughter that she must not speak to her bridegroom for nine
whole months. In Zululand, as is well known, the name of the
husband, and words like the name of the husband are tabooed to the
women.

By way of saving space, Mr. Ralston's article on ' Beauty and the
Beast,' 'Cinderella' (Nineteenth Century, Dec. 1878), may be referred
to for examples in tales of husbands and wives mysteriously punished
for seeing each other when they should not have done so. Instances

I

HOUSEHOLD TALES. IxXV

of punishment for mentioning the name are found in Professor Rhys's
article on Welsh tales in Cymmrodorion (iv. 2). The most famous
example of the tale is the disappearance of the Vedic Urvasi, after
she has seen her husband naked. To see him naked was prohibited as
" against the custom of women " (Brahmana of Yajur Veda. Max
Miiller, Selected Essays, i. 408). Now Mr. Midler explains this legend
as originally a story of " the chaste Dawn hiding her face when she
had seen her husband." But no attention is j^aid in this interpreta-
tion to the actual mentioTi of " the custom of women." We have
shewn that customs of this kind are not unusual. The Milesian women
for example, had a sacred custom of never using the names of their
husbands (Herodotus, i. 147). Obviously usages like these might
readily produce tales which enforced the usage by the sanction of a
punishment. This explanation of the common class of Household
Tales referred to, seems at least as plausible as any theory about the
"chaste dawn," and the like (Cox, ii. 402).

8. The Custom of Jijngsten Recht, or P reference of the
Youngest Son, who is usually th^ Heir.

This old custom (Borough English) is of the widest diffusion in
the world. Compare Elton, Origins of English History^ and Liebrecht,
Zur Volkskimde, p. 431. A Zulu example occurs (Callaway, pp. 64-
65, Notes), and in this example we have a natural explanation of the
common incident in Folk Tales, the jealousy of tie elder brothers,
who betray their successful younger brother (Compare Ralston,
Bussinn Tales, pp. 74-81). It is needless to suppose, with Mr. Ralston,
that these tales " came west in Christian times " from a polygamous
eastern country. The custom of Jilngsten Recht points to the
probable existence of polygamy, with the natural preference for the
youngest wife's son, all over Europe long before Christianity.

9. The Separable Soul.

The idea of the separable soul or strength occurs in the ancient
Egyptian Story of Two Brothers, (Maspero. Contes Egyptiens) in the
Samoyed tale of men who lay aside their hearts, in the legend of the
golden hairs, in which was the strength of Minos, in The Giant with no
Heart in his Body, in the tale of Koschkei the Deathless (Ralston), and
in numberless other Household Tales. The other idea, that the soul
of the drad may enter a bird or a flower, is common in Grimm's Collec-
ti:>n. For example, of the savage beliefs on which these incidents of
folk-lore are founded, it must suflSce to refer to the collections of in-
stances made by Mr. Tylor, Primitive Culture, i. 430; i. 309, 438; i.
436, 475 ; ii. 9, 147, 153, 192, 232. See especially ii. 153, where our
explanation of the " separable heart " and life is put forward to inter-
pret the Household tale. Among the Eskimos a soul may be taken
out, cleaned, and repaired, or the entrails taken out, a process called
angmainek (Rink, Eskimo, p. 60).

The evidence here advanced has been limited by our space, but it is
perhaps enough to indicate that most of the wild incidents, common to
savage and civilised tales and myths, are based on beliefs us natural to
savages, as monstrous in the eyes of civilised races.

GEIMM'S
GEEMAN HOUSEHOLD TALES.

1.— THE FROG-KINa, OR lEON HENBY.

EKEATA.

Introduction.

Page xxxviii., line 18, for " all " read " several."
line 22, for " all " rmd " some."

rolled straigut into xne wtiier. iu« j^xug, » u.cnAg,noci.
followed it with her eyes, bnt it vanished, and the well
was deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. On
this she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and
could not be comforted. And as she thus lamented,
some one said to her, " What ails thee. King's daughter ?
Thou weepest so that even a stone would show pity."
She looted round to the side from whence the voice came,
and saw a frog stretching forth its thick, ugly head from
the water. " Ah ! old water-splasher, is it thou ? " said
she ; " I am weeping for my golden ball, which has fallen
into the well."

" Be quiet, and do not weep," answered the frog, " I
can help thee, but what wilt thou give me if I bring thy

(»*vV0L. I. B

GEIMM'S
GEEMAN HOUSEHOLD TALES.

1.— THE FROG-KINa, OR IRON HENRY.

In old times when wishing still helped one, there lived
a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the
youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, which has
seen so much, was astonished whenever it shone in her
face. Close by the King's castle lay a great dark forest,
and under an old lime-tree in the forest was a well, and
when the day was very warm, the King's child went out
into the forest and sat down by the side of the cool
fountain, and when she was dull she took a golden ball,
and threw it up on high and caught it, and this ball was
her favourite plaything.

Now it so happened that on one occasion the princess's
golden ball did not fall into the little hand which she
was holding up for it, but on to the ground beyond, and
rolled straight into the water. The King's daughter
followed it wdth her eyes, but it vanished, and the well
was deep, so deep that the bottom could not be seen. On
this she began to cry, and cried louder and louder, and
could not be comforted. And as she thus lamented,
some one said to her, " What ails thee. King's daughter?
Thou weepest so that even a stone would show pity."
She looked round to the side from whence the voice came,
and saw a frog stretching forth its thick, ugly head from
the water. " Ah ! old Avater-splasher, is it thou ? " said
she ; " I am weeping for my golden ball, which has fallen
into the well."

" Be quiet, and do not weep," answered the frog, " I
can help thee, but what wilt thou give me if I bring thy

^»vVOL. I. B

2 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 1.

plaything up again?" "Whatever thou wilt have, dear
frog," said she — " my clothes, my pearls and jewels, and
even the golden crown which I am wearing."

The frog answered, " I do not care for thy clothes, thy
pearls and jewels, or thy golden crown, but if thou wilt
love me and let me be thy companion and play-fellow, and
sit by thee at thy little table, and eat off thy little golden
plate, and diink out of thy little cup, and sleep in thy
little bed — if thou Tvilt promise me this I will go down
1>elow, and bring thee thy golden ball up again."

" Oh, 5^es," said she, " 1 promise thee all thou wishest,
if thou wilt but bring me my ball back again." She,
however, thought, "How the silly frog does talk! He
lives in the water with the other frogs and croaks, and
can be no companion to any human being ! "

But the frog when he had received this promise, put
his head into the water and sank down, and in a short
time came swimming up again with the ball in his mouth,
and threw it on the grass. The King's daughter was
delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, and
picked it up, and ran away with it. " Wait, wait," said
the frog, " Take me with thee. I can't run as thou
canst." But what did it avail him to scream his croak,
croak, after her, as loudly as he could? 8he did not
listen to it, but ran home and soon forgot the jDOor frog,
who was forced to go back into his well again.

The next day when she had seated herself at table
with the King and all the courtiers, and was eating from
her little golden plate, something came creeping splish
splash, splish splash, up the marble staircase, and when
it had got to the top, it knocked at the door and cried,
" Princess, youngest princess, open the door forme." She
ran to see who was outside, but when she opened the
door, there sat the frog in front of it. Then she slammed
the door to, in great haste, sat down to dinner again, and
was quite frightened. 'J'he King saw plainly that her
heart was beating violently, and said, " My child, what
art thou so afraid of? Is there perchance a giant outside
who wants to carry thee away ? " " Ah, no," replied she,
" it is no giant, but a disgusting frog."

" What does the frog want with thee ? " " Ah, dear

Tale 1.] THE FROG-KING, OR IKON HENRY. 3

father, yesterday when I was in the forest sitting by the
well, playing, my golden hall fell into the water. And
because I cried so the frog brought it out again for me,
and because he insisted so on it, I promised him he should
be my companion, but I never thought he would be able to
come out of his water ! And now he is outside there, and
wants to come in to me."

In the meantime it knocked a second time, and cried,

*' Princess ! youno:est princess !
Open il^e door for me !

Dost thou not know what thou saidst to me
Ye-teiday by the cool waters of the fountain?
Princess, youngest princess !
Open the door for me ! "

Then said the King, " That which thou hast promised
must thou perform. Go and let him in." She went and
opened the door, and the frog hopped in and followed her,
step by step, to her chair. There he sat still and cried,
" Lift me up beside thee." She delayed, until at last the
King commanded her to do it. When the frog was once
on the chair he wanted to be on the table, and when he
was on the table he said, " Now, push thy little golden
plate nearer to me that we may eat together." She did
this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly.
The frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouth-
ful she took choked her. At length he said, " I have
eaten and am satisfied ; now I am tired, carry me into thy
little room and make thy little silken bed ready, and we
will both lie down and go to sleep."

The King's daughter began to cry, for she was afraid of
the cold frog which she did not like to touch, and which
was now to sleep in her pretty, clean little bed. But the
King grew angry and said, " He who helped thee wlien
thou wert in truuble ought not afterwards to be despised
by thee." So she took hold of the frog with two fingers,
carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner. But
when she was in bed he crept to her and said, " I am tired,
I want to sleep as well as thou, lift me up or I will tell
thy father." Then she was terribly angry, and took him
up and tlirew him with all her might against the wall.
" Kow, thou wilt be quiet, odious frog," said she. But

B 2

4 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 2.

when lie fell down lie was no frog but a king's son with
beautiful kind eyes. He by her father's will was now her
dear companion and husband. Then he told her how he
had been bewitched by a wicked witch, and how no one
could have delivered him from the well but herself, and
that to-morrow they would go together into his kingdom.
Then they went to sleep, and next morning when the sun
awoke them, a carriage came driving up with eight white
horses, which had white ostrich feathers on their heads,
and were harnessed with golden chains, and behind stood
the young King's servant, faithful Henry. Faithful
Henry had been so unhappy when his master was changed
into a frog, that he had caused three iron bands to be laid
round his heart, lest it should burst with grief and sadness.
The carriage was to conduct the young King into his
kingdom. Faithful Henry helped them both in, and
placed himself behind again, and was full of joy because
of this deliverance. And when they had driven a part
of the way, the King's son heard a cracking behind him
as if something had broken. So he turned round and
cried, " Henry, the carriage is breaking."

" No, master, it is not the carriage. It is a band from
my heart, which was put there in my great pain when
you were a frog and imprisoned in the well." Again and
once again while they were on their way something
cracked, and each time the King's son thought the carriage
was breaking ; but it was only the bands which were
springing from the heart of faithful Henry because his
master was set free and was happy.

2.— CAT AND MOUSE IN PAETNERSHIP.

A CERTAIN cat had made the acquaintance of a mouse,
and had said so much to her about the great love and
friendship she felt for her, that at length the mouse agreed
that they should live and keep house together. " But we
must make a provision for winter, or else we shall suffer
from hunger," said the cat, " and you, little mouse^ cannot

Tale 2.] CAT AND MOUSE IN PARTNERSHIP. 5

venture everywhere, or you will be caught in a trap some
day." The good advice was followed, and a joot of fat wag
bought, but they did not know where to put it. At
length, after much consideration, the cat said, " I know no
place where it will be better stored up than in the church,
for no one dares take anything away from there. We
will set it beneath the altar, and not touch it until we are
really in need of it." So the pot was placed in safety, but it
was not long before the cat had a great longing for it, and
said to the mouse, " I want to tell you something, little
mouse; my cousin has brought a little son into the world,
and has asked me to be godmother ; he is white with brown
spots, and I am to hold him at the christening. Let me go
out to-day, and you look after the house by yourself."
" Yes, yes," answered the mouse, " by all means go, and if
you get anything very good, think of me, I should like a
drop of sweet red christening wine too." All this, however,
was untrue ; the cat bad no cousin, and had not been asked
to be godmother. She went straight to the church, stole to
the pot of fat, began to lick at it, and licked the top of the
fat off. Then she took a walk upon the roofs of the town,
looked out for opportunities, and then stretched herself
in the sun, and licked her lips whenever she thought
of the pot of fat, and not until it was evening did she
return home. " Well, here you are a^ain," said the mouse,
** no doubt you have had a merry da3^" " All went off
well," answered the cat. " What name did they give the
child ? " " Top off ! " said the cat quite coolly. " Top off ! "
cried the mouse, " that is a very odd and uncommon name,
is it a usual one in your family ? " " What does it sig-
nify," said the cat, " it is not worse than Crumb-stealer;
as your god-children are called."

Before long the cat was seized by another fit of longing.
She said to the mouse, " You must do me a favour, and
once more manage the house for a day alone. I am again
asked to be godmother, and, as the child has a white ring
round its neck, I cannot refuse." The good mouse consented,
but the cat crept behind the town walls to the church, and
devoured half the pot of fat. " Nothing ever seems so
good as what one keeps to oneself," said she, and was
quite satisfied with her day's work. When she went

6 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 2.

home tlie mouse inquired, " And what was this child
christened ? " " Half-done," answered the cat. " Half
done ! What are you saying ? I never heard the name
in my life, I'll wager anything it is not in the calendar ! "

The cat's mouth soon began to water for some more
licking. "All good things go in threes," said she, "I am
asked to stand godmother again. The child is quite
black, only it has white paws, but with that exception, it
has not a single white hair on its whole body ; this only
happens once every few years, you will let me go, won't
you ? " " Top-otf ! Half-done ! " answered the mouse,
" they are such odd names, they make me very thoughtful."
" You sit at home," said the cat, " in your dark-grey fur
coat and long tail, and are filled with fancies, that's because
you do not go out in the daytime." During the cat's
absence the mouse cleaned the house, and put it in order,
but the greedy cat entirely emptied the pot of fat.
" When everything is eaten up one has some peace," said
she to herself, and well filled and fat she did not return
liome tiil night. The mouse at once asked what name had
been given to the third child. " It will not please you
more than the others," said the cat. " He is called All-
gone." " All-gone," cried the mouse, " that is the most
suspicious name of all! I have never seen it in print.
x\ll-gone ; what can that mean ? " and she shook her head,
curled herself up, and lay down to sleep.

From this time forth no one invited the cat to be god-
mother, but when the winter had come and there was no
longer anything to be found outside, the mouse thought of
their provision, and said, " Come, cat, we will go to our pot
of fat which we have stored up for ourselves — we shall
enjoy that." " Yes," answered the cat, " you will enjoy it
as much as you would enjoy sticking that dainty tongue
of yours out of the window." They set out on their way,
but when they arrived, the pot of fat certainly was still
in its place, but it was empty. " Alas ! " said the mouse,
"• now I see what has happened, now it comes to light ! You
a true friend! You have devoured all when you were
standing godmother. First top off, then half done, then
— " " Will you hold your tongue," cried the cat, " one word
more, and I will eat you too." " All gone " was already

Tale 3.] OUR LADY's CHILD. 7

on the poor mouse's lips ; scarcely had she spoten it before
the cat sprang on her, seized her, and swallowed her
down. Verily, that is the way of the world.

3.— OUR LADY'S CHILD.

Hard by a great forest dwelt a wood-ciitter with his wife,
who had an only child, a little girl of three years old.
They were, however, so poor that they no longer had
daily bread, and did not know how to get food for her.
One morning the wood-cutter went out sorrowfully to his
work in the forest, and while he was cutting wood,
suddenly there stood before him a tall and beautiful
woman with a crown of shining stars on her head, who
s^id to him, " I am the Virgin Mary, mother of the child
Jesus. Thou art poor and needy, bring thy child to me,
I will take her with me and be her mother, and care for
her." The wood-cutter obeyed, brought his child, and
gave her to the Virgin Mary, who took her up to heaven
with her. There the child fared well, ate sugar-cakes,
and drank sweet milk, and her clothes were of gold, and
the little angels played with her. And when she was
fourteen years of age, the Virgin Mary called her one day
and said, " Dear child, I am about to make a long journe}^,
so take into thy keeping the kej^s of the thirteen doors of
heaven. Twelve of these thou mayest open, and behold
the glory which is within them, but the thirteenth, to
which this little key belongs, is forbidden thee. Beware
of opening it, or thou wilt bring misery on thyself." The
girl promised to be obedient, and when the Virgin Mary
was gone, she began to examine the dwellings of the
kingdom of heaven. Each day she opened one of them,
until she had made the round of the twelve. In each of
them sat one of the Apostles in the midst of a great light,
and she rejoiced in all the magnificence and splendour,
and the little angels who always accompanied her rejoiced
with her. Then the forbidden door alone remained, and
she felt a great desire to know what could be hidden

8 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 3.

behind it, and said to the angels, " I will not quite open
it, and I will not go inside it, but I will unlock it so that
we can just see a little through the opening." " Oh, no,"
said the little angels, " that would be a sin. The Virgin
Mary has forbidden it, and it might easily cause thy
unhappiness." Then she was silent, but the desire in her
heart was not stilled, but gnawed there and tormented her,
and let her have no rest. And once when the angels had
all gone out, she thought, " Now I am quite alone, and I
could peep in. If I do it, no one will ever know." She
nought out the key, and when she had got it in her hand,
she put it in the lock, and when she had put ii in, she
turned it round as well. Then the door sprang open, and
she saw there the Trinity sitting in fire and splendour.
She stayed there awhile, and looked at everything in
amazement ; then she touched the light a little with her
finger, and her finger became quite golden. Immediately
a great fear fell on her. She shut the door violently, and
ran away. Her terror too would not quit her, let her do
what she might, and her heart beat continually and
would not be still ; the gold too stayed on her finger, and
would not go away, let her rub it and wash it never so
much.

It was not long before the Virgin Mary came back from
her journey. She called the girl before her, and asked to
have the keys of heaven back. When the maiden gave
her the bunch, the Virgin looked into her eyes and said,
" Hast thou not opened the thirteenth door also ? " " No,"
she replied. Then she laid her hand on the girl's heart,
and felt how it beat and beat, and saw right well that she
had disobeyed her order and had opened the door. Then
she said once again, " Art thou certain that thou hast
not done it ? " " Yes," said the girl, for the second time.
Then she perceived the finger which had become golden
from touching the fire of heaven, and saw well that the
child had sinned, and said for the third time, " Hast thou
not done it?" "No," said the girl for the third time.
Then said the Virgin Mary, " Thou hast not obeyed me,
and besides that thou hast lied, thou art no longer worthy
to be in heaven."

Then the girl fell into a deep sleep, and when she

Tale 3.] OUR LADy's CHILD. 9

awol^e she lay on the earth below, and in the midst of a
wilderness. She wanted to cry out, but she could bring
forth no sound. She sprang up and wanted to run away,
but whithersoever she turned herself, she was continually
held back by thick hedges of thorns through which she
could not break. In the desert, in which she was im-
prisoned, there stood au old hollow tree, and this had to be
her dwelling-place. Into this she crept when night came,
and here she slept. Here, too, she found a shelter from
storm and rain, but it was a miserable life, and bitterly
did she weep when she remembered how happy she had
been in heaven, and how the angels had played with her.
Eoots and wild berries were her only food, and for these
she sought as far as she could go. In the autumn she
picked up the iallen nuts and leaves, and carried them
into the hole. The nuts were her food in winter, and
when snow and ice came, she crept amongst the leaves
like a poor little animal that she might not freeze. Before
long her clothes were all torn, and one bit of them after
another fell off her. As soon, however, as the sun shone
warm again, she went out and sat in front of the tree, and
her long hair covered her on all sides like a mantle. Thus
she sat year after year, and felt the pain and misery of the
world. One day, when the trees were once more clothed
in fresh green, the King of the country was hunting in the
forest, and followed a roe, and as it had fled into the
thicket which shut in this bit of the forest, he got off his
horse, tore the bushes asunder, and cut himself a path with
his sword. When he had at last forced his way through,
he saw a wonderfully beautiful maiden sitting under the
tree ; and she sat there and was entirely covei ed with her
golden hair down to her very feet. He stood still and
looked at her full of surprise, then he spoke to her and
said, " Who art thou ? Why art thou sitting here in the
wilderness ? " But she gave no answer, for she could not
open her mouth. The King continual, " Wilt thou go with
me to my castle ? " Then she just nodded her head a little.
The King took her in his arms, carried her to his horse,
and rode home with her, and when he reached the royal
castle he caused her to be dressed in beautiful garments,
and gave her all things in abundance. Although she could

10 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 3.

not speak, she was still so beautiful and charming tlmt he
beojan to love her with all his heart, and it was no "long
before he married her.

After a year or so had passed, the Queen brought a son
into the world. Thereupon the Virgin Mary appeared to
her in the night when she lay in her bed alone, and said,
"If thou wilt tell the truth and confess that thou didst
unlock the forbidden door, I will open thy mouth and give
thee back thy speech, but if thou perse verest in thy sin,
and deniest obstinately, I will take thy new born child
away wdth me." Then the Queen was permitted to answer,
but she remained hard, and said, " No, I did not open the
forbidden door ; " and the Virgin Mary took the new-born
child from her arms, and vanished with it. Next morning,
when the child was not to be found, it was whispered
among the people that the Queen was a man-eater, and
had killed her own child. She heard all this and could
say nothing to the contrary, but the King would not
believe it, for he loved her so much.

When a year had gone by the Queen again bore a son,
and in the night the Virgin Mary again came to her, and
said, " If thou wilt confess that thou openedst the forbidden
door, I w^ill give thee thy child back and untie thy tongue ;
but if thou continuest in sin and deniest it, I will take
away with me this new child also." Then the Queen
again said, " No,' I did not open the forbidden door ; " and
the Virgin took the child out of her arms, and aw^ay with
her to heaven. Next morning, when this child also had
disappeared, the people declared quite loudly that the
Queen had devoured it, and the King's councillors demanded
that she should be brought to justice. The King, however,
loved her so dearly that he would not believe it, and
commanded the councillors under pain of death not to say
any more about it.

The following year the Queen gave birth to a beautiful
little daughter, and for the third time the Virgin Mary
appeared to her in the night and said, " Follow me." She
took the Queen by the hand and led her to heaven, and
showed her there her two eldest children, who smiled at
her, and were playing with the ball of the world. When
the Queen rejoiced thereat, the Virgin Mary said, " Is thy

Tale 4.] THE STORY OF THE YOUTH, ETC. 11

hearty not yet softened? If thou wilt own that thou
openedst the, forbidden door, I will give thee back thy two
little sons." But for the third time the Queen answered,
" No, I did not open the forbidden door." Then the Virgin
let her sink down to earth once more, and took from her
likewise her third child.

Next morning, when the loss was reported abroad, all
the people cried loudly, " The Queen is a man-eater ! She
must be judged," and the King was no longer able to
restrain his councillors. Thereupon a trial was held, and
as she could not answer, and defend herself, she was con-
demned to be burnt alive. The wood was got together,
and when she was fast bound to the stake, and the fire
began to burn round about her, the hard ice of pride
melted, her heart was moved by repentance, and she
thought, " If I could but confess before my death that I
opened the door." Then her voice came back to her, and
she cried out loudly, " Yes, Mary, I did it ; " and straight-
way rain fell from the sky and extinguished the flames of
fire, and a light broke forth above her, and the Virgin
Mary descended with the two little sons by her side, and
the new-born daughter in her arms. She spoke kindly to
her, and said, " He who repents his sin and acknowledges
it, is forgiven." Then she gave her the three children,
untied her tongue, and granted her happiness for her
whole life.

4.— THE STOEY OF THE YOUTH WHO WENT
FOETH TO LEAEN WHAT FEAE WAS.

A CERTAIN father had two sons, the elder of whom was
sharp and sensible, and could do everything, but the
younger was stupid and could neither learn nor under-
stand anything, and when people saw him they said,
" There's a fellow who will give his father some trouble ! "
^^ hen anything had to be done, it was always the elder
who was forced to do it ; but if his father bade him fetch
anything when it w as late, or in the night-time, and the
way led through the churchyard, or any other dismal

1 2 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 4.

place, lie answered, " Oh, no, father, I'll not go there, it
makes me shudder ! " for he was afraid. Or when stories
were told by the fire at night which made tlie flesh creep,
the listeners often said, " Oh, it makes us shudder ! " The
3^ounger sat in a corner and listened with the rest of them,
and could not imagine what they could mean. " They
are always saying, 'It makes me shudder, it makes
me shudder ! ' It does not make me shudder," thought
he. " That, too, must be an art of which I understand
nothing ! "

Now it came to pass that his father said to him one
day, " Hearken to me, thou fellow in the corner there,
thou art growing tall and strong, and thou too must learn
something by which thou canst earn thy living. Look
how thy brother works, but thou dost not even earn thy
salt." " Well, father," he replied, " I am quite willing to
learn something — indeed, if it could but be managed, I
should like to learn how to shudder. I don't understand
that at all yet." The elder brother smiled when he heard
that, and thought to himself, " Good God, what a block-
head that brother of mine is ! He will never be good for
anything as long as he lives ! He who wants to be a
sickle must bend himself betimes.''

The father sighed, and answered him, " Thou shalt soon
learn what it is to shudder, but thou wilt not earn thy
living by that."

Soon after this the sexton came to the house on a visit,
and the father bewailed his trouble, and told him how
his younger son was so backward in every respect
that he knew nothing and learnt nothing. " Just think,"
said he, " when I asked him how he was going to earn his
bread, he actually wanted to learn to shudder." " If that
be all," replied the sexton, " he can learn that with me.
Send him to me, and I will soon polish him." The father
was glad to do it, for he thought, " It will train the boy
a little." The sexton therefore took him into his house,
and he had to ring the bell. After a day or two, the sexton
awoke him at midnight, and bade him arise and go up into
the church tower and ring the bell. " Thou shalt soon
learn what shuddering is," thought he, and secretly went
there before him ; and when the boy was at the top of

Tale 4.] THE STOEY OF THE YOUTH, ETC. 13

the tower and turned ronnd, and was just going to take
hold of the bell rope, he saw a white figure standing on
the stairs opposite to the sounding hole. " Who is there ? "
cried he, but the figure made no reply, and did not move
or stir. " Give an answer," cried the boy, " or take thy
self (iff, thou hast no business here at night."

The sexton, however, remained standing motionless that
the boy might think he was a ghost. The boy cried a
second time, " What dost thou want here? — speak if thou
art an honest fellow, or I will throw thee down the steps ! "
The sexton thought, " he can't intend to be as bad as his
words," uttered no sound and stood as if he were made of
stone. Then the boy called to him for the third time, and
as that was also to no purpose, he ran against him and
pushed the ghost down the stairs, so that it fell down ten
steps and remained lying there in a corner. Thereupon
he rang the bell, went home, and without saying a word
went to bed, and fell asleep. The sexton's wife waited a
long time for her husband, but he did not come back.
At length she became uneasy, and Hvakened the boy, and
asked, " Dost thou not know where my husband is ? He
Avent up the tow^er before thou didst." " No, I don't know,"
replied the boy, " but some one was standing by the
sounding hole on the other side of the steps, and as he
would neither give an answer nor go away, I took him
for a scoundrel, and threw him downstairs, just go there
and you will see if it was he, I should be sorry if it were."
The woman ran away and found her husband, who was
lying moaning in the corner, and had broken his leg.

She carried him down, and then with loud screams she
hastened to the boy's father. " Your boy," cried she," has
been the cause of a great misfortune ! He has thrown my
husband down the steps and made him break his leg.
Take the good-for-nothing fellow away from our house."
The father was terrified, and ran thither and scolded the
boy. " What wicked tricks are these ? " said he, " the
devil must have put this into thy head." " Father," he
replied, " do listen to me. I am quite innocent. He was
standing there by night like one who is intending to do
some evil. I did not know who it was, and I entreated
him three times either to speak or to go away." " Ah,"

14 GRTMM's household tales. [Tale 4.

said the father, " I have nothing but unhappiness with
thee. Go out of my sight. I will see thee no more."

"Yes, father, right willingl}^ wait only until it is day.
Then will I go forth and learn how* to shudder, and then
1 shall, at any rate, understand one art which will
support me." " Learn what thou wilt," sjDake the father,
" it is all the same to me. Here are fifty thalers for thee.
Take these and go into the w^ide w-orld, and tell no one
from Avhence thou comest, and wdio is thy father, for I
have reason to be ashamed of thee." " Yes, father, it shall
be as 3^ou wall. If you desire nothing more than that, I
can easily keep it in mind."

■ When day dawned, therefore, the boy put his fifty
thalers into his pocket, and w^ent forth on the great high-
way, and continually said to himself, " If I could but
shudder ! If I could but shudder ! " Then a man
approached who heard this conversation w^hich the youth
was holding with himself, and when they had walked a
little farther to where they could see the gallows, the
man said to him, " Ilook, there is the tree where seven
men have married the ropemaker's daughter, and are now
learnino- how to flv. Sit down below it, and wait till
night comes, and thou wilt soon learn how to shudder."
*' if that is all that is wanted," answered the youth,
" it is easily done ; but if I learn how to shudder as
quickly as that, thou shalt have my fifty thalers. Just
come back to me early in the morning." Then the youth
went to the gallows, sat down below it, and w^aited till even-
ing came. And as he was cold, he lighted himself a fire, but
at midnight the wind blew so sharply that in spite of his
fire, he could not get w^arm. And as the wind knocked
the hanged men against each other, and they moved back-
wards and forwards, he thought to himself, " Thou
shiverest below b}^ the fire, but how those up above must
freeze and suffer ! " And as he felt pity for them, he
raised the ladder, and climbed up, unbound one of them
after the other, and brought down all seven. Then he
stirred the fire, blew it, and set them all round it to warm
themselves. But they sat there and did not stir, and the
fire caught their clothes, bo he said, " Take care, or I
will hang you up again." The dead men," however, did not

Tale 4.] THE STORY OF THE YOUTH, ETC. 15

hear, but were quite silent, and let their rags go on burn-
ing. On this he grew angry, and said, " If you will not take
care, I cannot help you, I will not be burnt with you," and
he hung them up again each in his turn. Then he sat
down by his fire and fell asleep, and next morning the
man came to him and wanted to have the fifty thalers, and
said, " Well, dost thou know how to shudder ? " " No,"
answered he, " how was I to get to know ? Those fellows
up there did not open their mouths, and were so stupid
that they let the few old rags which they had on their
bodies get burnt." Then the man saw that he would not
carry away the fifty thalers that day, and went away
sas'ing, " One of this kind has never come in my way
before."

The youth likewise went his way, and once more began
to mutter to himself, " Ah, if I could but shudder ! Ah,
if I could but shudder ! " A waggoner who was striding
behind him heard that and asked, " Who art thou? " " I
don't know," answered the youth. Then the waggoner
asked, " From whence comest thdti ? " "I know not."
" Who is thy father ? " " That I may not tell thee."
" What is it that thou art always muttering between thy
teeth ? " " Ah," replied the youth, " I do so wish I could
shudder, but no one can teach me how to do it." " Give up
thy foolish chatter," said the waggoner. " Come, go with
me, I will see about a place for thee." The youth went
wiih the waggoner, and in the evening they arrived at an
inn where they wished to pass the night. Then at the
entrance of the room the youth again said quite loudly, " If
I could but shudder ! If I could but shudder ! " The host
who heard that, laughed and said, " If that is your desire,
there ought to be a good opportunity for you here."
" Ah, be silent," said the hostess, " so many inquisitive
persons have already lost their lives, it would be a pity
and a shame if such beautiful eyes as these should never
see the daylight again."

But the youth said, " However difficult it may be, I
will learn it, and for this purpose indeed have I journeyed
forth." He let the host have no rest, until the latter told
him, that not far from thence stood a haunted castle
where any one could very easily learn what shuddering

16 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 4.

was, if he would but watch in it for three nights. The
King had promised that he who would venture should
have his daughter to wife, and she was the most beautiful
maiden the sun shone on. Great treasures likewise lav
in the castle, which were guarded by evil spirits, and
these treasures would then be freed, and would make a
poor man rich enough. Already many men had gone into
the castle, but as yet none had come out again. Then
the youth went next morning to the King, and said that
if he were allowed he would watch three nights in the
enchanted castle. The King looked at him, and as the
youth pleased him, he said, "Thou mayest ask for three
things to take into the castle with thee, but they must be
things without life." Then he answered, " Then I ask
for a fire, a turning lathe, and a cutting-board with the
knife." The King had these things carried into the castle
for him during the day. When night was drawing near,
the youth went up and made himself a bright fire in one
of the rooms, placed the cutting-board and knife beside it,
and seated himself by the turniug-lathe. " Ah, if 1 could
but shudder ! " said he, " but I shall not learn it here
either." Towards midnight he was about to poke his fire,
and as he was blowing it, something cried suddenly from
one corner, " Au, niiau ! how cold we are ! " " You simple-
tons ! " cried he, " what are you crying about ? If you
are cold, come and take a seat by the fire and warm your-
selves." And when he had said that, two great black cats
came with one tremendous leap and sat down on each side
of him, and looked savagely at him with their fiery eyes.
After a short time, when they had warmed themselves,
they said, " Comrade, shall we have a game at cards ? "
" Why not ? " he replied, " but just show me your paws."
Then they stretched out their claws. " Oh," said he,
" what long nails you have ! Wait, I must first cut them
a little for you." Thereupon he seized them by the
throats, put them on the cutting-board and screwed their
feet fast. " I. have looked at your fingers," said he, " and
my fancy for card-playing has gone," and he struck them
dead and threw them out into the water. But when he
had made away with these two, and was about to sit
down again by his fire, out from every hole and corner

Tale 4.] THE STORY OF THE YOUTH, ETC. 17

came black cats and black dogs with red-hot chains, and
more and more of them came until he could no longer stir,
and they yelled horribly, and got on his fire, pulled it to
pieces, and wanted to put it out. He watched them for
a while quietly, but at last when they were going too
far, he seized his cutting-knife, and cried, " Away with
ye, vermin," and began to cut them down. Part of them
ran away, the others he killed, and threw out into
the fish-pond. When he came back he blew up the
embers of his fire again and warmed himself. And as he
thus sat, his eyes would keep open no longer, and he felt
a desire to sleep. Then he looked round and saw a great
bed in the corner. " That is the very thing for me," said
he, and got into it. When he was just going to shut his
eyes, however, the bed began to move of its own accord,
and went over the whole of the castle. " That's right,"
said he, " but go faster." Then the bed rolled on as if
six horses were harnessed to it, up and down, over thres-
holds and steps, but suddenly hop, hop, it turned over
upside down, and lay on him like a mountain. But
he threw quilts and pillows up in the air, got out and said,
"Now any one who likes, may drive," and lay down by
his fire, and slept till it was day. In the morning the
King came, and when he saw him lying there on the
ground, he thought the spirits had killed him and he was
dead. Then said he, " After all it is a pity, — he is a hand-
some man." The youth heard it, got up, and said, "It
has not come to that yet." Then the King was astonished,
but very glad, and asked how he had fared. "Very
well indeed," answered he ; " one night is over, the two
others will get over likewise." Then he went to the
innkeeper, who opened his eyes very wide, and said, " I
never expected to see thee alive again ! Hast thou learnt
how to shudder yet ? " " No," said he, " it is all in vain.
If some one would but tell me ! "

The second night he again went up into the old castle,
sat down by the fire, and once more began his old song'
" If I could but shudder ! " When midnight came, an
uproar and noise of tumbling about was heard ; at first
it was low, but it grew louder and louder. Then it was
quiet for awhile, and at length with a loud scream, half

VOL. I. Q

18 GPJMM'S household tales. [Tale 4.

a man came down the chimney and fell before him.
" Hollo ! " cried he, " aiiother half "belongs to this. This is
too little ! " Then the uproar began again, there was a
roaring and howling, and the other half fell down likewise.
" Wait," said he, " I will just blow np the fire a little for
thee." When he had done that and looked round again,
the two pieces were joined together, and a frightful man
was sitting in his place. " That is no part of our bargain,"
said the youth, " the bench is mine." The man w^anted to
push him aw-ay ; the youth, how^ever, would not allow that,
but thrust him off with all his strength, and seated himself
again in his own place. Then still more men fell down,
one after the other ; they brought nine dead men's legs
and two skulls, and set them up and played at nine-pins
with them. The youth also wanted to play and said,
" Hark you, can 1 join you ? " " Yes, if thou hast any
money." "Money enough," replied he, "but your balls
are not quite round." Then he took the skulls and put
them in the lathe and turned them till they were round.
" There, now, they will roll better ! " said he. " Hurrah !
now it goes merrily ! " He played wdth them and lost
some of his money,*but w^hen it struck twelve, everj^thing
vanished from his sight. He lay down and quietly fell
asleep. Next morning the King came to enquire after
him. " How has it fared with thee this time ? " asked
he. " I have been playing at nine-pins," he answered,
" and have lost a couple of farthings." " Hast thou not
shuddered then ? " " Eh, what ? " said he, " I have^ made
merry. If I did but know what it was to shudder ! "

The third night he sat down again on his bench and
said quite sadly, " If I could but shudder." When it
grew late, six tall men came in and brought a coffin.
Then said he, "Ha, ha, that is certainly my little cousin,
who only died a few days ago," and he beckoned with his
finger, and cried, " Come, little cousin, come." They placed
the coftin on the ground, but he went to it and took the
lid off, and a dead man lay therein. He felt his face, but
it was cold as ice. " Stop," said he, " I will w^arm thee a
little," and w^ent to the fire and warmed his hand and laid
it on the dead man's face, but he remained cold. Then he
took him out, and sat down by the fire and laid him on

Tale 4.] THE STORY OF THE YOUTH, ETC. 19

his breast and rubbed his arms that the blood mio^ht
circulate again. As this also did no good, he thought' to
himself, "When two people lie in bed together, they
warm each other," and carried him to the bed, covered
him over and lay down by him. After a short time the
dead man became warm too, and began to move. Then
f-aid the youth, " See, little cousin, have I not warmed
thee ? " The dead man, however, got up and cried, " Kow
will T strangle thee."

^ " What ! " said he, " is that the way thou thankest me ?
Thou shalt at once go into thy coffin again," and he took
him up, threw him into it, and shut the lid. Then
came the six men and carried him away again. " I cannot
manage to shudder," said he. " I shall never learn it here
as long as I live."

Then a man entered who was taller than all others, and
looked terrible. He was old, however, and had a 'ions;
white beard. " Thou wretch," cried he, " thou shalt soon
learn what it is to shudder, for thou shalt die." " Not so
fast," replied the youth. " If I am to die, I shall have to
have a say m it." " I will soon seize thee," said the fiend.
" boftly, softly, do not talk so big. I am as strong as thou
art, and perhaps even stronger." " We shall see," said
the old man. " If thou art stronger, I will let thee go
—come, we will try." Then he led him by dark passages
to a smith's forge, took an axe, and with one blow struck
an anvil into the ground. " I can do that better still,"
said the youth, and went to the other anvil. The old man
placed himself near and wanted to look on, and his white
beard hung down. Then the youth seized the axe, split
the anvil with one blow, and struck the old man's beard
m with it. " Now I have thee," said the youth. " Now
It IS thou who wilt have to die." Then he seized an iron
bar and beat the old man till he moaned and entreated him
to stop, and he would give him great riches. The youth
drew out the axe and let him go. The old man led him
back into the castle, and in a cellar showed him three
chests full of gold. " Of these," said he, " one part is for
the poor, the other is for the king, the third is thine." In
the meantime it struck twelve, and the spirit disap-
peared ; the youth, therefore, was left in darkness. " I shall

c 2

20 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 5.

still be able to find my way out," said he, and felt about,
found the way into the room, and slept there by his fire.
Next morning the King came and said, "Now thou mast
have learnt what shuddering is ? " " No," he answered ;
" what can it be ? My dead cousin was here, and a bearded
man came and showed me a great deal of money down
below, but no one told me what it was to shudder."
" I'hen," said the King, " thou hast delivered the castle,
and shalt marry my daughter." " That is all very well,"
said he, " but still I do not know what it is to shudder ! "
Then the gold was brought up and the wedding cele-
brated; but howsoever much the young King loved his
wife, and however happy be was, he still said always, "If
I could but shudder — if I could but shudder." And at
last she was angry at this. Her waiting-maid said, " I
will find a cure for him ; he shall soon learn what it is
to shudder." She went out to the stream which flowed
through the garden, and had a whole bucketful of gud-
geons brought to her. At night when the young King
was sleeping, his wife was to draw the clothes off him and
empty the bucketful of cold water with the gudgeons in
it over him, so that the little fishes would sprawl about
him. When this was done, he woke up and cried, " Oh,
what makes me shudder so ? — what makes me shudder so,
dear wife ? Ah ! now I know what it is to shudder ! "

5.— THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS.

Thkre was once on a time an old goat who had seven little
kids, and loved them with all the love of a mother for her
children. One day she wanted to go into the forest and
fetch some food. So she called all seven to her and said,
" Dear children, I have to go into the forest, be on your
guard against. the wolf; if he come in, he will devour you
all — skin, hair, and all. The wretch often disguises
himself, but you will know him at once by his rough voice
and his black feet." The kids said, " Dear mother, we
will take good care of ourselves ; you may go away

Tale 5.] THE WOLF AND THE SEVEN LITTLE KIDS. 21

without any anxiety." Then the old one bleated, and
went on her way with an easy mind.

It was not long before some one knocked at the house -
door and cried, "Open the door, dear children; your
mother is here, and has brought something back with her
for each of you." But the little kids knew that it was
the wolf, by the rough voice ; " We will not open the door,"
cried they, " thou art not our mother. She has a soft,
pleasant voice, but thy voice is rough ; thou art the
wolf I " Then the wolf went away to a shopkeeper and
bought himself a great lump of chalk, ate this and made
his voice soft with it. Then he came back, knocked at the
door of the house, and cried, " Open the door, dear
children, jour mother is here and has brought something
back with her for each of you." But the wolf had laid his
black paws against the window, and the chiklren saw them
and cried, " We will not open the door, our mother has not
black feet like thee : thou art the wolf! " Then the wolf
ran to a baker and said, " I have hurt my feet, rub some
dough over them for me." And when the baker had
rubbed his feet over, he ran to the miller and said, " Strew
some white meal over my feet for me." The miller
thought to himself, " The wolf wants to deceive some one,"
and refused ; but the wolf said, " If thou wilt not do it, I
will devour thee." Then the miller was afraid, and made
his paws white for him. Truly men are like that.

So now the wretch went for the third time to the house-
door, knocked at it and said, " Open the door for me,
children, your dear little mother has come home, and has
brought every one of you something back from the forest
with her." The little kids cried, " First show us thy paws
that we may know if thou art our dear little mother."
Then he put his paws in through the window, and when
the kids saw that they were white, they believed that all
he said was true, and opened the door. But who should
come in but the wolf! They were terrified and wanted
to hide themselves. One sprang under the table, the
second into the bed, the third into the stove, the fourth
into the kitchen, the fifth into the cupboard, the sixth
under the washing-bowl, and the seventh into the clock-
case. But the wolf found them all, and used no great

22 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 5.

ceremony ; one after the other he swallowed them down his
throat. The youngest in the clock-case was the only one
he did not find. When the wolf had satisfied his appetite
he took himself off, laid himself down nnder a tree in the
green meadow outside, and began to sleep. Soon after-
Avards the old goat came home again from the forest. Ah !
what a sight she saw there ! The house-door stood wide
open. The table, chairs, and benches w^ere thrown down,
the washing-bowl lay broken to pieces, and the quilts and
pillows were pulled off the bed. She sought her children,
but they were nowhere to be found. She called them one
after another by name, but no one answered. At last,
when she came to the youngest, a soft voice cried, " Dear
mother, I am in the clock-case." She took the kid out,
and it told her that the wolf had come and had eaten all
the others. Then you may imagine how she wept over
her j)Oor children.

At length in her grief she went out, and the youngest
kid ran with her. When they came to the meadow, there
lay the wolf by the tree and snored so loud that the
branches shook. She looked at him on every side and saw
that something was moving and struggling in his gorged
body. " Ah, heavens," said she, " is it possible that my
j)Oor children whom he has swallowed down for his supper,
can be still alive?" Then the kid had to run home and
fetch scissors, and a needle and thread, and the goat cut
open the monster's stomach, and hardly had she made one
cut, than one little kid thrust its head out, and when she had
cut farther, all six sprang out one after another, and were
all still alive, and had suffered no injury whatever, for in
his greediness the monster had swallowed them down
whole. What rejoicing there was ! Then they embraced
their dear mother, and jumped like a tailor at his wedding.
The mother, however, said, " Now go and look for some bigj
stones, and we will fill the wicked beast's stomach with!
them Avhile he is still asleep." Then the seven kidsj
dragged the stones thither with all speed, and put as many]
of them into his stomach as they could get in ; and the!
mother sewed him up again in the greatest haste, so thatj
he was not aware of anything and never once stirred.

When the wolf at length had had his sleep out, he gotj

Tale 6.] FAITHFUL JOHN. 23

on his legs, and as the stones in his stomach made him very-
thirsty, he wanted to go to a well to drink. But when he
began to walk and to move about, the stones in his
stomach knocked against each other and rattled. Then
cried he,

" Whnt rumbles and tumbles
Ai^ainst my poor bones V
I tlioui^iit 'twas six kids,
But it's naught but big stones."

And when he got to the well and stooped over the water
f>nd was just about to drink, the heavy stones made him
fall in and there was no help, but he had to drown
miserably. When the seven kids saw that, they came
running to the spot and cried aloud, "The wolf is dead!
The wolf is dead ! " and danced for joy round about the
Avell with their mother.

6.-FAITHFUL JOHN.

There was once on a time an old king who was ill, and
thought t<^ himself, " I am lying on what must be my
death-bed." Then said he, " Tell Faithful John to come
to me." Faithful John was his favourite servant, and was
so called, because he had for his whole life long been so
true to him. When therefore he came beside the bed, the
King said to him, " Most faithful John, I feel my end
approaching, and have no anxiety except about my son.
He is still of tender age, and cannot alwaj^s know how to
guide himself. If thou dost not promise me to teach him
everything that he ought to know, and to be his foster-
father, I eannot close my eyes in peace." Then answered
Faithful John, " 1 will not forsake him, and will serve
him with fidelity, even if it should cost me my life." On
this, the old King said, "Kow I die in comfort and peace."
Then he added, '' After my death, thou ^halt show him the
whole castle : all the chambei's, halls, and vaults, and all
the treasures which lie therein, but the last chamber in the
long gallery, in which s the picture of the princ3ss of the

24 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 6.

Golden Dwelling, slialt thou not show. If he sees that
picture, he will fall violently in love with her, and will
drop down in a swoon, and go through great danger foi
her sake, therefore thou must preserve him from that."
x\nd when Faithful John had once more given his promise
to the old King about this, the King said no more, but laid
his head on his pillow, and died.

When the old King had been carried to his grave,
Faithful John told the young King all that he had
promised his father on his deathbed, and said, " This will
I assured^ perform, and will be faithful to thee as I have
been faithful to him, even if it should cost me my life."
When the mourning was over, Faithful John said to him,
" It is now time that thou shouldst see thine inheritance.
I will show thee thy father's palace." Then he took him
about everywhere, up and down, and let him see all the
riches, and the magnificent apartments, onl}^ there was
one room which he did not open, that in which hung the
dangerous picture. The picture was, however, so placed
that when the door was opened you looked straight on it,
and it was so admirably painted that it seemed to breathe
and live, and there was nothing more charming or more
beautiful in the whole world. The young king however
plainly remarked that Faithful John always walked past
this one door, and said, " Why dost thou never open this one
for me ? " " There is something within it," he replied, "which
would terrify thee." But the King answered, " I have seen
all tlie palace, and I will know what is in this room also,"
and he went and tried to break open the door by force.
Then Faithful John held him back and said, " I promised
thy father before his death that thou shouldst not see
that which is in this chamber, it might bring the greatest
misfortune on thee and on me." " Ah, no," replied the
young King, " if I do not go in, it will be my certain
destruction. I should have no rest day or night until I
had seen it with my own eyes. I shall not leave the place
now until thou hast unlocked the door."

Then Faithful John saw that there was no help for it
now, and with a heavy heart and many sighs, sought
out the key from the great bunch. When he had opened
the door, he went in first, and thought by standing before

Tale 6.] * FAITHFUL JOHN. 25

him he could hide the portrait so that the King should not
see it in front of him, but what availed that ? The King
stood on tip-toe and saw it over his shoulder. And when he
saw the portrait of the maiden, which was so magnificent
and shone with gold and precious stones, he fell fainting
on the ground. Faithful John took him up, carried him
to his bed, and sorrowfully thought, " The misfortune
has befallen us, Lord God, what will be the end of it ? "
Then he strengthened him with wine, until he came to
himself again. The first words the King said were,
*' Ah, the beautiful portrait! whose is it?" " That is the
princess of the Golden Dwelling," answered Faithful John.
Then the King continued, " My love for her is so great,
that if all the leaves on all the trees were tongues, they
could not declare it. I will give my life to win her. Thou
art my most Faithful John, thou must help me."

The faithful servant considered within himself for a long
time how to set about the matter, for it was difficult even
to obtain a sight of the King's daughter. At length he
thought of a way, and said to the King, " Everything
which she has about her is of gold — tables, chairs, dishes,
glasses, bowls, and household furniture. Among thy
treasures are five tons of gold ; let one of the goldsmiths
of the kingdom work thetse up into all manner of vessels
and utensils, into all kinds of birds, wild beasts and
strange animals, such as may please her, and we will go
there with them and try our luck."

The King ordered all the goldsmiths to be brought to him,
and they had to work night and day until at last the most
splendid things were prepared. When everything was
stowed on board a ship, Faithful John put on the dress
of a merchant, and the King was forced to do the same in
order to make himself quite unrecognizable. Then they
sailed across the sea, and sailed on until they came to the
town wherein dwelt the princess of the Golden Dwelling.

Faithful John bade the King stay behind on the ship,
and wait for him. " Perhaps I shall bring the princess
with me," said he, " therefore see that everything is in
order ; have the golden vessels set out and the whole ship
decorated." Then he gathered together in his apron all
kinds of gold things, went on shore and walked straight

26 Grimm's household tales. [tale 6.

to the royal palace. When he entered the courtyard of
the palace, a beautiful ojirl was standing there by the well
with two golden buckets in ber hand, drawing water with
them. And when she was just turning round to carry
away the sparkling water she saw the stranger, and asked
who he was. So he answered, " I am a merchant," and
opened his apron, and let her look in. Then she cried,
" Oh, what beautiful gold things ! " and put her pails
down and looked at the golden wares one after the other.
Then said the girl, " The princess must see these, she has
such great pleasure in golden things, that she will buy all
you have." She took him by the hand and led him upstairs,
for she was the waiting-maid. When the King's daughter
saw the wares, she was quire delighted and said, " They
are so beautifully worked, that I will buy them all of
thee." But Faithful John said, " I am only the servant
of a rich merchant. The things I have here are not to be
compared with those my master has in his ship. They
are the most beautiful and valuable things that have ever
been made in gold." She wanted to have everything
brought to her there, but he said, " There are so many of
them that it would take a great many days to do that, and
so many rooms would be required to exhibit them, that
your house is not big enough." Then her curiosity and
longing were still more excited, until at last she said,
" Conduct me to the ship, I will go there myself, and -
behold the treasures of thy master."

On this Faithful John was quite delighted, and led her ,
to the ship, and when the King saw her, he perceived that
her beauty was even greater than the picture had repre-
sented it to be, and thought no other than that his heart
would burst in twain. Then she got into the ship, and theiB
King led her within. Faithful John, however, remained^
behind with the pilot, and ordered the ship to be pushed off,
saying, " Set all sail, till it fly like a bird in air." Within,
however, the King showed her the golden vessels, every one j
of them, also the wild beasts and strange animals. Manyj
hours went by whilst she was seeing everything, and inj
her delight she did not observe that the ship was sailing
away. After she had looked at the last, she thanked thej
merchant and wanted to go home, but when she came tol

Tale 6.] FAITHFUL JOHN. 27

the side of the ship, she saw that it was on the deep sea
far from land, and hurrying onwards with all sail set.
"Ah," cried she in her alarm, " I am betiayed ! I am
cariied away and have fallen into the power of a
merchant — 1 would die rather ! " The King, however,
seized her hand, and said, " I am not a merchant. I am a
king, and of no meaner origin than thou art, and if I have
carried thee away with subtlety, that has come to pass
becciuse of my exceeding great love for thee. The lirst
time that I looked on thy portrait, I feil fainting to the
ground." When the princess of the Golden Dwelling
heard that, she was comforted, and her heart was inclined
unto him, so that she willingly consented to be his
wife.

It happened, however, while they were sailing on-
wards over the deep sea, that Faithful John, who was
sitting on the fore part of the vessel, making music, tsaw
three ravens in the air, which came flying towards them.
On this he stopped playing and listened to what they were
saying to each other, for that he well understood. One
cried, " Oh, there he is carrying home the princess of the
Golden Dwelling." "Yes," replied the second, "but he
has not got her yet." Said the third, " But he has got her,
she is sitting beside him in the ship." Then the first
began again, and cried, " What good will that do him?
When they reach land a chestnut horse will leap forward
to meet him, and the prince will want to mount it, but
if he does that, it will run away with him, and rise up
into the air with him, and he will never see his maiden
more." Spake the second, " But is there no escape ? "

" Oh, yes, if any one else gets on it swiftly, and takes
out the pistol which must be in its holster, and shoots
the horse dead with it, the young King is saved. But who
knows that ? And whosoever does know it, and tells it to
him, will be turned to si one from the toe to the knee."
Then said the second, " I know more than that ; even if
the horse be killed, the young King will still not keep his
bride. When they go into the castle together, a wrought
bridal garment will be lying there in a dish, and looking
as if it were woven of gold and silver; it is, however,
nothing but sulphur and pitch, and if he put it on, it will

28 Grimm's household tales. [tale 6.

burn him to the very bone and marrow." Said the third,
" Is there no escape at all ? "

" Oh, yes," replied the second, " if any one with gloves
on seizes the garment and throws it into the fire and burns
it, the young King will be saved. But what avails that?
Whosoever knows it and tells it to him, half his body will
become stone from the knee to the heart."

Then said the third, " I know still more ; even if the
bridal garment be burnt, the young King will still not
have his bride. After the wedding, when the dancing
begins and the young Queen is dancing, she will suddenly
turn pale and fall down as if dead, and if some one does
not lift her up and draw three drops of blood from
her right breast and spit them out again, she will die.
But if any one who knows that were to declare it, he would
become stone from the crown of his head to the sole of his
foot." When the ravens had spoken of this together, they
flew onwards, and Faithful John had well understood
everything, but from that time forth he became quiet and
sad, for if he concealed what he had heard from his mnster,
the latter would be unfortunate, and if he discovered it to
him, he himself must sacrifice his life. At length, how-
ever, he said to himself, " I will save my master, even if
it bring destruction on myself."

When therefore they came to shore, all happened as
had been foretold by the ravens, and a magnificent chest-
nut horse sprang forward. " Good," said the King, " he
shall carry me to my palace," and was about to mount it
when Faithful John got before him, jumped quickly on it,
drew the pistol out of the holster, and shot the horse.
Then the other attendants of the King, who after all were
not very fond of Faithful John, cried, " How shameful to
kill the beautiful animal, that was to have carried the
King to his palace ! " But the King said, " Hold your
peace and leave him alone, he is my most faithful John,
who knows what may be the good of that ! " They
went into the palace, and in the hall there stood a dish,
and therein lay the bridal garment looking no otherwise
than as if it were made of gold and silver. The young
king went towards it and was about to take hold of it, but
Faithful John pushed him away, seized it with gloves on.

Tale 6.] FAITHFUL JOHN. 29

carried it quickly to the fire and burnt it. The other
attendants again began to murmur, and said, "Behold,
now he is even burning the King's bridal garment! " But
the young King said, " Who knows what good he may
have done, leave him alone, he is my most faithful
John."

And now the wedding was solemnized : the dance
began, and the bride also took j^art in it ; then Faithful
John was watchful and looked into her face, and suddenly
she turned pale and fell to the ground as if she were dead.
On this he ran hastily to her, lifted her up and bore her
into a chamber — then he laid her down, and knelt and
sucked the three drops of blood from her right bregtst, and
spat them out. Immediately she breathed again and re-
covered herself, but the young King had seen this, and
being ignorant why Faithful John had done it, was
angry and cried, "Throw him into a dungeon." Next
morning Faithful John was condemned, and led to the
gallows, and when he stood on high, and was about to be
executed, he said, " Every one who has to die is permitted
before his end to make one last speech ; may I too claim the
right ? " " Yes," answered the King, " it shall be granted
unto thee." Then said Faithful John, " I am unjustly
condemned, and have always been true to thee," and re-
lated how he hacl hearkened to the conversation of the
ravens when on the sea, and how he had been obliged to
do all these things in order to save his master. Then cried
the King, " Oh, my most faithful John. Pardon, pardon —
bring him down." But as Faithful John spoke the last
word he had fallen down lifeless and become a stone.

Thereupon the King and the Queen suffered great
anguish, and the King said, " Ah, how ill I have requited
great fidelity ! " and ordered the stone figure to be taken
up and placed in his bedroom beside his bed. And as
often as he looked on it he wept and said, " Ah, if I could
bring thee to life again, my most faithful John." Some
time passed and the Queen bore twins, two sons who grew
fast and were her delight. Once when the Queen was at
church and the two children were sitting playing beside
their father, the latter full of grief again looked at the
stone figure, sighed and said, " Ah, if I could but bring

30 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 6.

tliee to life again, my most faithful John." Then the
stone began to speak and said, " Ihou canst bring me to
life again if thou wilt use for that purpose what is dearest
to thee." Then cried the King, " I will give everything I
have in the world for thee." The stone continued, " If
thou wilt cut off the heads of thy two children with thine
own hand, and sprinkle me with their blood, I shall be
restored to life."

The King was terrified when he heard that he himself
must kill his dearest children, but he thought of faithful
John's great fidelity, and how he had died for him, drew
his sword, and with his own hand cut off the children's
heads. And when he had smeared the stone with their
blood, life returned to it, and Faithful John stood once
more safe and healthy before him. He ^aid to the King,
" Tiiy truth shall not go unrewarded," and took the heads
of the children, put them on again, and rubbed the
wounds with their blood, on which they became whole again
immediately, and jumped about, and went on playing as
if nothing had happened. Thcnt le King was full of joy,
and when he saw the Queen coming he hid Faithful John
and the two children in a great cupboard. When she
entered, he said to her, " Hast thou been praying in the
church ? " " Yes," answered she, " but I have constantly
been thinking of Faithful John and what misfortune has
befallen him through us." Then ssaid he, " Dear wife,
we can give him his life again, but it will cost us our two
little sons, whom we must sacrifice." The Queen turned
pale, and her heart was full of terror, but she said, " We
owe it to him, for his great fidelity." Then the King was
rejoiced that she thought as he had thought, and went
and opened the cupboard, and brought forth Faithful
John and the children, and said, " God be praised, he is
delivered, and we have our little sons again also," and told
her how everything had occurred. Then they dwelt to-
gether in much ha^Dpiness until their death.

Tale 7.] THE GOOD BARGAIN. 31

7.— THE GOOD BAEGAIN.

There was once a peasant who had driven his cow to the
fair, and sold her for seven thalers. On the way home he
had to pass a pond, and already from afar he heard the
frogs crying, " Aik, aik, aik, aik." " Well," said he to him-
self, " they are talking without rhyme or reason, it is seven
that I have received, not eight." When he got to the water,
he cried to them, " Stupid animals that you are ! Don't you
know better than that ? It is seven thalers and not eight."
The frogs, however, stood to their " aik, aik, aik, aik."
" Come, then, if you won't believe it, I can count it out to
you," and he got his money out of Ids pocket and counted
out the seven thalers, always reckoning four and twenty
groschen to a thaler. The frogs, however, would not
pay any attention to his reckoning, but still cried, " aik,
aik, aik, aik." " What," cried the peasant quite angry,
" since you are determined to know better than I, count
it yourselves," and threw all the money into the water to
them. He stood still and wanted to wait until they were
done and had brought him his own again, but the frogs
maintained their opinion and cried continually " aik, aik,
aik, aik," and besides that, did not throw the money
out again. He still waited a long while until evening
came on and he was forced to go home. Then he abused
the frogs and cried, " You water-splashers, you thick-
heads, you goggle-eyes, you have great mouths and can
screech till j^ou hurt one's ears, but you cannot count
seven thalers ! Do you think I'm going to stand here till
you get done ? " And with that he went away, but the
frogs still cried, " aik, aik, aik, aik," after him till he
went home quite angr3^

After a while he bought another cow, which he killed,
and he made the calculation that if he sold the meat well
he might gain as much as the two cows were worth, and
have the skin into the bargain. When therefore he got
to the town with the meat, a great troop of dogs were
gathered togetlier in front of the gate, with a large
greyhound at the head of them, which jumped at the
meat, snuifed at it, and barked, "Wow, wow, wow." As

32 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 7.

there was no stopping him, the peasant said to him,
*' Yes, yes, I know qnite well that thou art saying,
' wow, wow, wow,' because thou wantest some of the
meat; but I should fare badly if I were to give it to
thee." The dog, however, answered nothing but " wow,
wow." " Wilt thou promise not to devour it all then, and
wilt thou go bail for thy companions ? " " Wow, wow,
wow," said the dog. " Well, if thou insistest on it, I will
leave it for thee ; I know thee well, and know who is thy
master ; but this I tell thee, I must have my money in
three days or else it will go ill with thee ; thou must just
bring it out to me." Thereupon he unloaded the meat
and turned back again, the dogs fell upon it and loudly
barked, " wow, wow."

The countryman, who heard them from afar, said to
himself, " Hark, now they all want some, but the big one
is responsible to me for it."

When three days had passed, the countryman thought,
" To-night my money will be in my pocket," and was quite
delighted. But no one would come and pay it. " There
is no trusting any one now," said he ; and at last he lost
patience, and went into the town to the butcher and
demanded his money. The butcher thought it was a joke,
but the peasant said, " Jesting apart, I will have my
money ! Did not the great dog bring you the whole of
the slaughtered cow three days ago ? " Then the butcher
grew angry, snatched a broom-stick and drove him out.
"Wait a while," said the peasant, "there is still some
justice in the world!" and went to the royal palace
and begged for an audience. E e was led before the King,
who sat there with his daughter, and asked him what
injury he had suffered. " Alas ! " said he, " the frogs and
the dogs have taken from me what is mine, and the
butcher has paid me for it with the stick," and he related
at full length all that had happened. Thereupon the
King's daughter began to laugh heartily, and the King
said to him, " I cannot give you justice in this, but you
shall have my daughter to wife for it, — in her whole life
she has never yet laughed as t^he has just done at thee,
and I have promised her to him who could make her laugh.
1 hou mayst thank God for thy good fortune ! "

1

Tale 7.] THE GOOD BARGAIN. S3

" Oh," ^nswered the peasant, " I will not have her, I
have a wife already, and she is one too many for me ;
when^ I go home, it is jnst as had as if I had a wife
standing in every corner." Then the King grew angry,
and said, " Thou art a boor." " Ah, Lord King," replied
the peasant, "what can you expect from an ox, but
beef?" "Stop," answered the King, "thou shalt have
another reward. Be off now, but come back in three
days, and then thou shalt have five hundred counted
out in full."

When the peasant went out by the gate, the sentry said,
" Thou hast made the King's daughter laugh, so thou wilt
certainly receive something good." " Yes, that is what I
think," answered the peasant; "five hundred are to be
counted out to me." " Hark thee," said the soldier, " give
me some of it. What canst thou do with all that money ? "
"As it is thou," said the peasant, "thou shalt have two
hundred ; present thyself in three days' time before the
King, and let it be paid to thee." A Jew, who was standing
by and had heard the conversation, ran after the peasant,
held him by the coat, and said, " ph, wonder ! what a
luck-child thou art ! I will change it for thee, I will change
it for thee into small coins, what dost thou want with the
great thalers ? " " Jew," said the countryman, " three hun-
dred canst thou still have ; give it to me at once in coin, in
three days from this, thou wilt be paid for it by the King."
The Jew was delighted with the profit, and brought the
sum in bad groschen, three of which were worth two good
ones. After three days had passed, according to the King's
command, the peasant went before the King. " Pull his
coat off," said the latter, " and he shall have his five hun-
dred." " Ah ! " said the peasant, " they no longer belong
to me ; I presented two hundred of them to the sentinel,
and three hundred the Jew has changed for me, so by
right nothing at all belongs to me." In the meantime
the soldier and the Jew entered and claimed what they
had gained from the peasant, and they received the
blows strictly counted out. The soldier bore it patiently
and knew already how it tasted; but the Jew said sorrow-
fully, "Alas, alas, are these the heavy thalers?" The
King could not help laughing at the peasant, and as

VOL. I. J)

34 GKIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 7.

all his anger was gone, lie said, "As thou hast already
lost thy reward before it fell to thy lot, I will give thee
something in the place of it. Go into my treasure
chamber and get some money for thyself, as much as thou
wilt." The peasant did not need to be told twice, and
stuffed into his big pockets whatsoever would go in.
Afterwards he went to an inn and counted over his
money. The Jew had crept after him and heard how he
muttered to himself, " That rogue of a king has cheated
me after all, why could he not have given me the money
himself, and then I should have known what I had ? How
can I tell now if what I have had the luck to put in my
pockets is right or not ? " " Good heavens ! " said the Jew
to himself, " that man is speaking disrespectfully of our
lord the King, I will run and inform, and then I shall get
a reward, and he will be punished as well."

When the King heard of the peasant's words he fell
into a passion, and commanded the Jew to go and bring
the offender to him. The Jew ran to the peasant, " You
are to go at once to the lord King in the very clothes you
have on." " I know what's right better than that,"
answered the peasan't, " I shall have a new coat made
first. Dost thou think that a man with so much money
in his pocket is to go there in his ragged old coat ? " The
Jew, as he saw that the peasant would not stir without
another coat, and as he feared that if the King's anger
cooled, he himself would lose his reward, and the peasant
his punishment, said, " I will out of pure friendship lend
thee a coat for the short time. What will people not do
for love ! " The peasant was contented with this, put the
Jew's coat on, and went off with him.

The King reproached the countryman because of the evil
speaking of which the Jew had informed him. " Ah,"
said the peasant, '* what a Jew says is always false — no
true word ever comes out of his mouth ! That rascal
there is capable of maintaining that I have his coat
on."

" What is that ? " shrieked the Jew. "Is the coat not
mine ? Have I not lent it to thee out of pure friendship,
in order that thou mightest appear before the lord King ? "
When the King heard that, he said, "The Jew has

Tale 8.] THE WONDEEFUL MUSICIAN. 35

assuredly deceived one or the other of us, either myself or
the peasant," and again he ordered something to be counted
out to him in hard thalers. The peasant, however, went
home in the good coat, with the good money in his
pocket, and said to himself, " This time I have hit it ! "

8.— THE WONDEEFUL MUSICIAN.

There was once a wonderful musician, who went quite
alone through a forest and thought of all manner of things,
and when nothing was left for him to think about, he said
to himself, " Time is beginning to pass heavily with me
here in the forest, I will fetch hither a good companion
for myself." Then he took his fiddle from his back, and
played so that it echoed through the trees. It was not
long before a wolf came trotting through the thicket
towards him. " Ah, here is a wolf coming ! I have no
desire for him ! " said the musician ; but the wolf came
nearer and said to him, " Ah, dear musician, how beauti-
fully thou dost play ! I should like to learn that, too."
" It is soon learnt," the musician replied, " thou hast only
to do all that I bid thee." " Oh, musician," said the wolf,
" I will obey thee as a scholar obeys his master." The
musician bade him follow, and when they had gone part
of the way together, they came to an old oak-tree which
was hollow inside, and cleft in the middle. " Look," said
the musician, " if thou wilt learn to fiddle, put thy fore
paws into this crevice." The wolf obeyed, but the
musician quickly picked up a stone and with one blow
wedged his two paws so fast that he was forced to stay
there like a prisoner. " Stay there until I come back again,"
Baid the musician, and went his way.

After a while he again said to himself, " Time is
beginning to pass heavily with me here in the forest, I
will fetch hither another companion," and took his fiddle
and again played in the forest. It was not long before a
fox came creeping through the trees towards him. " Ah,
there's a fox coming ! " baid the musician. " I have no

D 2

v6 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 8.

desire for him." The fox came up to him and said, " Oh,
dear mtisician, how beautifully thou dost play ! I should
like to learn that, too." " That is soon learnt," said the
musician. " Thou hast only to do everything that I bid
thee." " Oh, musician," then said the fox, " I will obey
thee as a scholar obeys his master." " Follow me," said
the musician ; and when they had walked a part of the
way, they came to a footpath, with high bushes on both
sides of it. There the musician stood still, and from one
side bent a young hazel-bush down to the ground, and put
his foot on the top of it, then he bent down a young
tree from the other side as well, and said, " Now, little
fox, if thou wilt learn something, give me thy left
front paw." The fox obeyed, and the musician fastened
his paw to the left bough. " Little fox," said he, " now
reach me thy right paw," and he tied it to the right
bough. When he had examined whether they were firm
enough, he let go, and the bushes sprang up again, and
jerked up the little fox, so that it hung struggling in the
air. " Wait there till I come back again," said the
musician, and went his way.

Again he said to himself, " Time is beginning to pass
heavily with me here in the forest, I will fetch hither
another companion," so he took his fiddle, and the sound
echoed through the forest. Then a little hare came
springing towards him. " Why, a hare is coming," said
the musician, " I do not want him." " Ah, dear musician,"
said the hare, " how beautifully thou dost fiddle ; I, too,
should like to learn that." " That is soon learnt," said
the musician, " thou hast only to do everything that I
bid thee."

" Oh, musician," replied the little hare, " I will obey
thee as a scholar obeys his master." They went a part
of the way together until they came to an open space in
the forest, where stood an aspen-tree. The musician
tied a long string round the little hare's neck, the other
end of which he fastened to the tree. " Now briskly,
little hare, run twenty times round the tree ! " cried the
musician, and the little hare obeyed, and when it had
run round twenty times, it had twisted the string twenty
times round the trunk of the tree, and the little hare was

Tale 9.] THE TWELVE BKOTHEKS. 37

caught, and let it pull and tug as it liked, it only made
the string cut into its tender neck. " Wait there till I
come back," said the musician, and went onwards.

The wolf, in the meantime, had pushed and pulled and
bitten at the stone, and had worked so long that he had
set his feet at liberty and had drawn them once more out
of the cleft. Full of anger and rage he hurried after the
musician and wanted to tear him to pieces. When the
fox saw him running, he began to lament, and cried with
all lus might, " Brother wolf, come to my help, the
musician has betrayed me ! " The wolf drew down the
little tree, bit the cord in two, and freed the fox, who went
with him to take revenge on the musician. They found
the tied-up hare, whom likewise they delivered, and then
they all sought the enemy together.

The musician had once more played his fiddle as he
went on his way, and this time he had been more fortunate.
The sound reached the ears of a poor wood-cutter, who
instantly, whether he would or no, gave up his work
and came with his hatchet under his arm to listen to the
music. " At last comes the right companion," said the
musician, " for I was seeking a human being, and no wild
beast." And he began and played so beautifully and
delightfully that the poor man stood there as if bewitched,
and his heart leaped with gladness. And as he thus stood,
the wolf, the fox, and the hare came up, and he saw
well that they had some evil design. So he raised his
glittering axe and placed himself before the musician, as
if to say, " Whoso wishes to touch him let him beware, for
he will have to do with me ! " Then the beasts were
terrified and ran back into the forest. The musician,
however, played once more to the man out of gratitude,
and then went onwards.

9.— THE TWELVE BROTHERS.

There were once on a time a king and a queen who
lived happily together and had twelve cliildren, but they
were all boys. Then said the King to his wife, " If the

38 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 9.

thirteenth child which thou art about to bring into the
Avorld, is a girl, the twelve boys shall die, in order that
her possessions may be great, and that the kingdom may
fall to her alone." He caused likewise twelve coffins to
be made, which were already filled with shavings, and in
each lay the little pillow for the dead, and he had tbem
taken into a locked-up room, and then he gave the Queen
the key of it, and bade her not to speak of this to any one.

The mother, however, now sat and lamented all day
long, until the youngest son, who was always with her,
and whom she had named Benjamin, from the Bible,
said to her, " Dear mother, why art thou so sad ? "

'• Dearest child," she answered, " I may not tell thee."
But he let her have no rest until she went and unlocked
the room, and showed him the twelve coffins ready filled
with shavings. Then she said, "My dearest Benjamin,
thy father has had these coffins made for thee and for thy
eleven brothers, for if I bring a little girl into the world,
you are all to be killed and buried in them." And as she
wept while she was saying this, the son comforted her
and said, " Weep not, dear mother, we will save ourselves,
and go hence." But she said, " Go forth into the forest
with tby eleven brothers, and let one sit constantly on
the highest tree which can be found, and keep watch,
looking towards the tower here in the castle. If I give
birth to a little son, I will put up a white flag, and then
you may venture to come back, but if I bear a daughter,
I will hoist a red flag, and then fly hence as quickly as
you are able, and may the good God protect you. And
every night I will rise up and pray for you — in winter
that you may be able to warm yourself at a fire, and in
summer that you may not faint away in the heat."

After she had blessed her sons therefore, they went
forth into the forest. They each kept watch in turn, and
sat on the highest oak and looked towards the tower.
When eleven days had passed and the turn came to
Benjamin, he saw that a flag was being raised. It was,
however, not the white, but the blood-red flag which
announced that they were all to die. When the brothers
heard that, they were very angry and said, " Are we
all to suffer death for the sake of a girl ? We swear that

1

Tale 9.] THE TWELVE BROTHERS. 39

^ve will avenge ourselves ! — wheresoever we find a girl, her
red blood shall flow."

Thereupon they went deeper into the forest, and in the
midst of it, where it was the darkest, they found a little
bewitched hut, which was standing empty. Then said
they, " Here we will dwell, and thou Benjamin, who art the
youngest and weakest, thou shalt stay at home and keep
house, we others will go out and get food." Then they
went into the forest and shot hares, wild deer, birds and
pigeons, and whatsoever there was to eat ; this they took
to Benjamin, who had to dress it for them in order that
they might appease their hunger. They lived together
ten years in the little hut, and the time did not appear
long; to them.

The little daughter which their mother the Queen had
given birth to, was now grown up ; she was good of heart,
and fair of face, and had a golden star on her forehead.
Once, when it was the great washing, she saw twelve
men's shirts among the things, and asked her mother,
*' To whom do these twelve shirts belong, for they are far
too small for father?" Then the Queen answered with a
heavy heart, " Dear child, these belong to thy twelve
brothers." Said the maiden, " Where are my twelve
brothers, I have never yet heard of them ? " She replied,
" God knows where they are, they are wandering about
the world." Then she took the maiden and opened the
chamber for her, and showed her the twelve coffins with
the shavings, and pillows for the head. " These coffins,"
said she, " were destined for thy brothers, but they went
away secretly before thou wert born," and she related to
her how everything had happened ; then said the maiden,
" Dear mother, weep not, I will go and seek my brothers."

So she took the twelve shirts and went forth, and
straight into the great forest. She walked the whole day,
and in the evening she came to the bewitched hut. Then
she entered it and found a young boy, who asked, " From
whence comest thou, and whither art thou bound ? " and
was astonished that she was so beautiful, and wore royal
garments, and had a star on her forehead. And she
answered, " I am a king's daughter, and am seeking my
twelve brothers, and I will walk as far as the sky is blue

40 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale P.

until I find them." She likewise showed him the twelxe
shirts which belonged to them. Then Benjamin saw thai
she was his sister, and said, " I am Benjamin, thy
youngest brother." And she began to weep for joy, and
Benjamin wept also, and they kissed and embraced each
other with the greatest love. But after this he said,
" Dear sister, there is still one difficulty. We have agreed
that every maiden whom we meet shall die, because we
have been obliged to leave our kingdom on account of a
girl." Then said she, "I will willingly die, if by so
doing I can deliver my twelve brothers."

" No," answered he, " thou shalt not die, seat thyself
beneath this tub until our eleven brothers come, and then
I will soon come to an agi'eement with them."

She did so, and when it was night the others came from
hunting, and their dinner was ready. And as they were
sitting at table, and eating, they asked, " What news is
there?" Said Benjamin, "Don't you know anything?"
" No," they answered. He continued, " You have been in
the forest and I have stayed at home, and yet I know
more than you do." " Tell us then," they cried. He
answered, " But promise me that the first maiden who
meets us shall not be killed." " Yes," they all cried,
" she shall have mercy, only do tell us."

Then said he, " Our sister is here," and he lifted up the
tub, and the King's daughter came forth in her royal
garments with the golden star on her forehead, and she
was beautiful, delicate, and fair. Then they were all
rejoiced, and fell on her neck, and kissed and loved her
with all their hearts.

Now she stayed at home with Benjamin and helped him
with the work. The eleven went into the forest and
caught game, and deer, and birds, and wood-pigeons that
they might have food, and the little sister and Benjamin
took care to make it ready for them. She sought for the
wood for cooking and herbs for vegetables, and put the
pans on the fire so that the dinner was always ready
when the eleven came. She likewise kept order in the
little house, and put beautifully white clean coverings ou
the little beds, and the brothers were always contented
and lived in great harmony with her.

Tale 9.] THE TWELVE BROTHERS. 41

Once on a time the two at home had prepared a beautiful
entertainment, and when they were all together, they sat
down and ate and drank and were full of gladness. There
was, however, a little garden belonging to the bewitched
house wherein stood twelve lily flowers, which are like-
wise called students.* She wished to give her brothers
pleasure, and plucked the twelve flowers, and thought she
would present each brother with one while at dinner.
But at the self-same moment that she plucked the flowers
the twelve brothers were changed into twelve ravens, and
flew away over the forest, and the house and garden
vanished likewise. And now the poor maiden was alone
in the wild forest, and when she looked around, an old
woman was standing near her who said, " My child, what
hast thou done? Why didst thou not leave the twelve
white flowers growing ? They were thy brothers, who
are now for evermore changed into ravens." The maiden
said weeping, " Is there no way of delivering them ? "

" No," said the woman, "there is but one in the whole
world, and that is so hard that thou wilt not deliver
them by it, for thou must be dumb for seven years, and
mayst not speak or laugh, and if thou speakest one single
word, and only an hour of the seven years is wanting, all is
in vain, and thy brothers will be killed by the one word."

Then said the maiden in her heart, " I know with
certainty that I shall set my brothers free," and went and
sought a high tree and seated herself in it and span, and
neither spoke nor laughed. Now it so happened that a king
was huntini>; in the forest, who had a great grej^hound
which ran to the tree on which the maiden was sitting, and
sprang about it, whining, and barking at her. Then the
King came by and saw the beautiful King's daughter with
the golden star on her brow, and was so charmed with her
beauty that he called to ask her if she would be his wife.
She made no answer, but nodded a little with her head.

* Studenten-Nelken^ or Studenten-Lilien, are a species of small pinks,
and are so called because they are much woru by the students of
various universities, in the button-hole of their coats. They are some-
times called Federnelken (Feather-pink, or " sop in the wine "). The
brothers Grimm themselves, in the notes to "Ue drei Vugelkens,"
speak of this flower as the narcissus. — Tr.

42 GRIMM's household tales. ['^ale 10.

So he climbed up the tree himself, carried her down,
placed her on his horse, and bore her home. Then the
wedding was solemnized with great magnificence and
rejoicing, but the bride neither spoke nor smiled. When
they had lived happily together for a few years, the
King's mother, who was a wicked woman, began to slander
the young Queen, and said to the King, " This is a common
beggar girl whom thou hast brought back with thee.
Who knows what impious tricks she practises secretly!
Even if she be dumb, and not able to speak, she still might
laugh for once ; but those who do not laugh have bad
consciences." At first the King would not believe it, but
the old woman urged this so long, and accused her of so
many evil things, that at last the King let himself be
peisuaded and sentenced her to death.

And now a great fire was lighted in the courtyard in
which she was to be burnt, and the King stood above at
the window and looked on with tearful eyes, because he
still loved her so much. And when she was bound fast to
the stake, and the fire was licking at her clothes witli its
red tongue, the last instant of the seven years expired.
Then a whirring sound was heard in the air, and twelve
ravens came flying towards the place, and sank down-
wards, and when they touched the earth they were her
twelve brothers, whom she had delivered. They tore the
fire asunder, extinguished the flames, set their dear sister
free, and kissed and embraced her. And now as she dared
to open her mouth and speak, she told the King why she
had been dumb, and had never lauo-hed. The King;
rejoiced when he heard that she was innocent, and they
all lived in great unity until their death. The wicked
step-mother was taken before the judge, and put into a
barrel filled with boiling oil and venomous snakes, and died
an evil death.

10.— THE PACK OF EAGAMUFFINS.

The cock once said to the hen, " It is now the time when
the nuts are ripe, so let us go to the hill together and for
once eat our fill before the squirrel takes them all away."

Tale 10.] THE PACK OF RAGAMUFFINS. 43

" Yes," replied the hen, " come, we will have some plea-
sure together." Then they went away to the hill, and
as it was a bright day they stayed till evening. Now
I do not know whether it was that they had eaten till
they were too fat, or whether they had become proud, but
they would not go home on foot, and the cock had to build
a little carriage of nut- shells. When it was ready, the
little hen seated herself in it and said to the cock, " Thou
canst just harness thyself to it." " I like that ! " said the
cock, " I would rather go home on foot than let myself be
harnessed to it; no, that is not our bargain. I do not
mind being coachman and sitting on the box, but drag it
myself I will not."

As they were thus disputing, a duck quacked to them,
" You thieving folks, who bade you go to my nut-hill ?
Wait, you shall suffer for it ! " and ran with open beak at
the cock. But the cock also was not idle, and fell boldly
on the duck, and at last wounded her so with his spurs
that she begged for mercy, and willingly let herself be
harnessed to the carriage as a punishment. The little cock
now seated himself on the box and was coachman, and
thereupon they went off in a gallop, with " Duck, go as
fast as thou canst." When they had driven a part of the
way they met two foot-passengers, a pin and a needle.
They cried " Stop ! stop ! " and said that it would soon be
as dark as pitch, and then they could not go a step further,
and that it was so dirty on the road, and asked if they
could not get into the carriage for a while. They had
been at the tailor's public-house by the gate, and had
stayed too long over the beer. As they were thin
people, who did not take up much room, the cock let them
both get in, but they had to promise him and his little hen
not to step on their feet. Late in the evening they came
tu an inn, and as they did not like to go further by night,
and as the duck also was not strong on her feet, andlfeli
from one side to the other, they went in. The host at
first made many objections, his" house was already full,
besides he thought they could not be very distinguished
persons ; but at last, as they made pleasant speeches, and
told him that he should have the egg which the little hen
had laid on the way. and should likewise keep the duck.

44 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 11.

wliicti laid one every day, he at length said that they might
stay the night. And now they had themselves well served,
and feasted and rioted. Early in the morning, when day
was breaking, and every one was asleep, the cock awoke
the hen, brought the egg, ]3ecked it open, and they ate it
together, but they threw the shell on the hearth. Then
they went to the needle which was still asleep, took it by
the head and stuck it into the cushion of the landlord's
chair, and put the pin in his towel, and at last with-
out more ado they flew away over the heath. The duck
who liked to sleep in the open air and had stayed in the
yard, heard them going away, made herself merry and
found a stieam, down which she swam, which was a much
quicker way of travelling than being harnessed to a
carriage. The host did not get out of bed for two hours
after this ; he washed himself and wanted to dry himself,
then the pin went over hi^ face and made a red streak from
one ear to the other. After this he went into the kitchen
and wanted to light a pipe, but when he came to the
hearth the egg-shell darted into his eyes. " This morning
everything attacks my head," said he, and angrily sat
down on his grandfather's chair, but he quickly started
up again and cried, " Woe is me," for the needle had
pricked him still worse than the pin, and not in the head.
Now he was thoroughly angry, and suspected the guests
who had come so late the night before, and when he went
and looked about for them, they were gone. Then he
made a vow to take no more ragamuffins into his house,
for they consume much, pay for nothing, and play mis-
chievous tricks into the bargain by way of gratitude.

11.— BKOTHEE AND SISTER.

Little brother took his little sister by the hand and
said, " Since our mother died we have had no happi-
ness ; our step-mother beats us every day, and if we
come near her she kicks us away with her foot. Our
meals are the hard crusts of bread that are left over;
and the little dog under the table is better oif, for she

Tale 11.] BROTHER AND SISTER. 45

often throws it a nice bit. Maj' Heaven pity ns. If our
mother only knew ! Come, we will go forth together into
the wide world."

They walked the whole day over meadows, fields, and
stony places; and when it rained the little sister said,
" Heaven and our hearts are weeping together." In the
evening they came to a large forest, and they were so
weary with sorrow and hunger and the long walk, that
they lay doAvn in a hollow tree and fell asleep.

The next day when they awoke, the sun was already high
in the sky, and shone down hot into the tree. Then the
brother said, " Sister, I am thirsty ; if I knew of a little
brook I Avould go and just take a drink ; I think I hear
one running." I'he brother gut up and took the little
sister by the hand, and they set off to find the brook.

But the wicked step-mother was a witch, and had seen
how the two children had gone away, and had crept
after them privily, as witches do creep, and had bewitched
all the brooks in the forest.

Now when they found a little brook leaping brightly
over the stones, the brother was going to drink out of
it, but the sister heard how it said as it ran, " Who
drinks of me will be a tiger ; who drinks of me will be a
tiger." Then the sister cried, " Pray, dear brother, do
not drink, or you will become a wild beast, and tear me
to pieces." The brother did not drink, although he was
so thirsty, but said, " I will wait for the next spring."

When they came to the next brook the sister heard this
also say, "Who drinks of me will be a wolf; who drinks
of me will be a wolf." Then the sister cried out, " Pray,
dear brother, do not drink, or you will become a wolf, and
devour me." The brother did not drink, and said, " I will
wait until we come to the next spring, but then I must
drink, say what you like ; for m}^ thirst is too great."

And when they came to the third brook the sister heard
how it said as it ran, " Who drinks of me will be a roe-
buck ; who drinks of me will be a roebuck." The sister
said, " Oh, I pray you, dear brother, do not drink, or you
will become a roebuck, and run away from me." But the
brother had knelt down at once by the brook, and had
bent down and drunk some of the water, and as soon as

46 GRIMBl's HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 11.

the first drops touched his lips he lay there a young roe-
buck.

And now the sister wept over her poor bewitched
brother, and the little roe wept also, and sat sorrowfully
near to her. But at last the girl said, " Be quiet, dear
little roe, I will never, never leave you."

Then she untied her golden garter and put it round
the roebuck's neck, and she plucked rushes and wove them
into a soft cord. With this she tied the little beast and
led it on, and she walked deeper and deeper into the
forest.

And when they had gone a very long way they came
at last to a little house, and the girl looked in ; and as it
was empty, she thought, " We can stay here and live."
Then she sought for leaves and moss to make a soft bed
for the roe ; and every morning she went out and gathered
roots and berries and nuts for herself, and brought tender
grass for the roe, who ate out of her hand, and was content
and played round about her. In the evening, when the
sister was tired, and had said her prayer, she laid her head
upon the roebuck's back : that was her pillow, and she slept
softly on it. And if only the brother had had his human
form it would have been a delightful life.

For some time they were alone like this in the wilder-
ness. But it happened that the King of the country held
a great hunt in the forest. Then the blasts of the horns,
the barking of dogs, and the merry shouts of the huntsmen
rang through the trees, and the roebuck heard all, and
was only too anxious to be there. " Oh," said he to his
sister, " let me be off to the hunt, I cannot bear it any
longer ; " and he begged so much that at last she agreed.
" But," said she to him, " come back tome in the evening;
I must shut my door for fear of the rough huntsmen, so
knt)ck and say, " My little sister, let me in I " that I
mav know you ; and if you do not say that, I shall not
open the door." Then the young roebuck sprang away ;
so happy was he and so merry in the open air.

The King and the huntsmen saw the pretty creature,
and started after him, but they could not catch him, and
when they thought that they surely had him, away he
sprang through the buslies and could not be seen. When

Tale 11.] BROTHER AND SISTER. 47

it was dark he ran to the cottage, knocked, and said, " My
little sister, let me in." Then the door was opened for
him, and he jumped in, and rested himself the whole night
through upon his soft bed.

The next day the hunt went on afresh, and when the
roebuck again heard the bugle-horn, and the ho ! ho ! of
the huntsmen, he had no peace, but said, " Sister, let me
out, I must be off." His sister opened the door for him,
and said, " But you must be here again in the evening and
say your pass-word."

When the King and his huntsmen again saw the young
roebuck with the golden collar, they all chased him, but
he was too quick and nimble for them. This went on for
the whole day, but at last by the evening the huntsmen
had surrounded him, and one of them wounded him a
little in the foot, so that he limped and ran slowly. Then
a hunter crept after him to the cottage and heard how he
said, " My little sister, let me in," and saw that the door
was opened for him, and was shut again at once. The
huntsman took notice of it all, and went to the King and
told liim what he had seen and heard. Then the King said,
" To-morrow we will hunt once more."

The little sister, however, was dreadfully frightened
when she saw that her fawn was hurt. She washed the
blood off him, laid herbs on the wound, and said, " Go to
your bed, dear roe, that you may get well again." But
the wound was so slight that the roebuck, next morn-
ing, did not feel it any more. And when he again heard
the sport outside, he said, " I cannot bear it, I must be
there ; they shall not find it so easy to catch me." The
sister cried, and said, " This time they will kill you, and
here am I alone in the forest and forsaken by all the
world. I will not let you out." " Then you will have
me die of grief," answered the roe ; " when I hear the
bugle-horns I feel as if I must jump out of ray skin."
Then the sister could not do otherwise, but opened the
door for him with a heavy heart, and the roebuck, full
of health and joy, bounded into the forest.

When the King saw him, he said to his huntsman,
"Now chase him all day long till night-fall, but take
care that no one does him any harm."

48 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 11.

As soon as the sun had set, the King said to the
huntsmen, " Now come and show me the cottage in the
wood ; " and when he was at the door, he knocked and
called out, " Dear little sister, let me in." Then the door
opened, and the King walked in, and there stood a maiden
more lovely than any he had ever seen. The maiden
was frightened when she saw, not her little roe, but a
man come in who wore a golden crown upon his head.
But the King looked kindly at her, stretched out his
hand, and said, " Will you go with me to my palace and
be my dear wife ? " " Yes, indeed," answered the maiden,
" but the little roe must go with me, I cannot leave him."
The King said, " It shall stay with you as long as
you live, and shall want nothing." Just then he came
running in, and the sister again tied him with the cord of
rushes, took it in her own hand, and went away with
the King from the cottage.

The King took the lovely maiden upon his horse and
carried her to his palace, where the wedding was held
with great pomp. She was now the Queen, and they
lived for a long time happily together ; the roebuck was
tended and cherished, and ran about in the palace-garden.

But the wicked step-mother, because of whom the
children had gone out into the world, thought all the
time that the sister had been torn to pieces by the wild
beasts in the wood, and that the brother had been shot
for a roebuck by the huntsmen. Now when she heard
that they were so happy, and so well off, envy and
hatred rose in her heart and left her no peace, and
she thought of nothing but how she could bring them
again to misfortune. Her own daughter, who was as
ugly as night, and had only one eye, grumbled at her and
said, " A Queen ! that ought to have been my luck."
" Only be quiet," answered the old woman, and comforted
her by saying, " when the time comes I shall be ready."

As time went on, the Queen had a pretty little boy,
and it happened that the King was out hunting ; so
the old witch took the form of the chamber-maid, went
into the room wliere the Queen lay, and said to her,
" Come, the bath is ready ; it will do you good, and give
you fresh strength ; make haste before it gets cold."

1

Tale 11.] BROTPIER AND SISTER. 49

The daughter also was close by ; so they carried the
weakly Queen into the bath-room, and put her into the
bath ; then they shut the door and ran away. But in the
bath-room they had made a fire of such deadly heat that
the beautiful young Queen was soon suffocated.

When this was done the old woman took her daughter,
put a nightcap on her head, and laid her in bed in place of
the Queen. She gave her too the shape and the look of the
Queen, only she could not make good the lost eye. But
in order that the King might not see it, she was to lie
on the side on which she had no eye.

In the evening when he came home and heard that
he had a son he was heartily glad, aud was going to the
bed of his dear wife to see how she was. But the old
woman quickly called out, " For your life leave the
curtains closed; the Queen ought not to see the light yet,
and must have rest." The King went away, and did not
find out that a false Queen was lying in the bed.

But at midnight, when all slept, the nurse, who was
sitting in the nursery by the cradle, and who was the
onl}^ person awake, saw the door open and the true Queen
walk in. She took the child out of the cradle, laid it
on her arm, and suckled it. Then she shook up its pillow,
laid the child down again, and covered it with the little
quilt. And she did not forget the roebuck, but went
into the corner where it lay, and stroked its back. Then
she went quite silently out of the door again. The next
morning the nurse asked the guards whether any one had
come into the palace during the night, but they answered,
" No, we have seen no one."

She came thus many nights and never spoke a word :
the nurse always saw her, but she did not dare to tell
any one about it.

When some time had passed in this manner, the Queen
began to speak in the night, and said —

"How fares my child, how fares my roe?
Twice shall I come, then never more."

The nurse did not ansv\er, but when the Queen had
gone again, went to the King and told him all. The King
said, "Ah, heavens! what is this? To-morrow night I

VOL. I. E

50 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 12.

will watch by the child." In the evening he went into

the nursery, and at midnight the Queen again appeared

and said —

" How fares ray cMld, how fares my rr e ?
Once will I come, then never more."

And she nursed the child as she was wont to do before
she disappeared. The King dared not speak to her, but
on the next night he watched again. Then she said —

"How fares my child, how fares my roe?
This time I come, then never more."

Then the King could not restrain himself; he sprang to-
wards her, and said, " You can be none other than my
dear wife." She answered, " Yes, I am your dear wife,"
and at the same moment she received life again, and
by God's grace became fresh, rosy, and full of health.

Then she told the King the evil deed which the wicked
witch and her daughter had been guilty of towards her.
The King ordered both to be led before the judge, and
judgment was delivered against them. The daughter was
taken into the forest where she was torn to pieces by wild,
beasts, but the witch was cast into the fire and miserably
burnt. And as soon as she was burnt the roebuck changed
his shape, and received his human form again, so the
sister and brother lived happily together all their lives.

12.— EAPUNZEL.*

There were once a man and a woman who had long in
vain wished for a child. At length the woman hoped
that God was about to grant her desire. These people had
a little window at the back of their house from which a
splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most
beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded

* Eapnnzel, Campanula rapimculus (rampion), a congener of the
common harebell. It has a long white spindle-shaped root which is
eaten raw like a radish, and has a pleasant sweet ilavour. Its leaves
and young shoots are also used in salads — and so are the roots, sliced.
— Tb

Tale 12.] KAPUNZEL. 51

by a high wall, and no one dared to go into it because it
belonged to an enchantress, who had great power and was
dreaded by all the world. One day the woman was stand-
ing by this window and looking down into the garden,
when she saw a bed which was planted with the most
beautiful rampion (rapunzel), and it looked so fresh and'
green that she longed fo?' it, and had the greatest
desire to eat some. This desire increased every day,
and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she
quite pined away, and looked pale and miserable. Then
her husband was alarmed, and asked, " What aileth thee,
dear wife ? " " Ah," she replied, " if I can't get some of
the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, to
eat, I shall die." The man, who loved her, thought,
" Sooner than let thy wife die, bring her some of the
rampion thyself, let it cost thee what it will." In the
twilight of evening, he clambered down over the wall into
the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful
of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made
heiself a salad of it, and ate it with much relish. She,
hewever, liked it so much — so very much, that the next
day she longed for it three times as much as before. If he
Avas to have any rest, her husband must once more descend
into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he
let himself down again ; but when he had clambered down
the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress
standing before him. " How canst thou dare," said she
with angry look, " to descend into my garden and steal
my rampion like a thief? Thou shalt suffer for it!"
" Ah," answered he, " let mercy take the place of justice,
I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My
wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such
a longing for it that she would have died if she had
not got some to eat." Then the enchantress allowed
her anger to be softened, and said to him, " If the case
be as thou sayest, 1 will allow thee to take away with
thee as much rampion as thou wilt, only I make one
condition, thou must give me the child which thy wife
will bring into the world ; it shall be well treated, and I
will care for it like a mother." The man in his terror
consented to everything, and when the woman was brought

E 2

52 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 12.

to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child
the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Eapnnzel grew into the most beautiful child beneath
the sun. When she was twelve years old, the enchantress
shut her into a tower, which lay in a forest, and had
neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top w^as a little
window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she
placed herself beneath this, and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rnpunzel,
Let down thy hair to me."

Eapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold,
and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she un-
fastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the
hooks of the window above, and then the hair fell twenty
ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it came to pass that the King's son
rode through the forest and went by the tower. Then he
heard a song, which was so charming that he stood still
and listened. This was Eapunzel, who in her solitude
passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The
King's son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the
door of the tower, but none was to be found. He rode
home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart,
tliat every day he went out into the forest and listened to
it. Once w^hen he was thus standing behind a tree, he
saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how
she cried, •

" Eapunzel, Eapunzel,
Let down thy hair.'*

Then Eapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the
enchantress climbed up to her. " If that is the ladder by
which one mounts, I will for once try my fortune," said
he, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went
to the tower and cried,

"Eapunzel, Eapunzel,
Let down thy hair."

Immediatel}' the hair fell down and the King's son climbed
up.

Tale 12.] RAPUNZEL. 53

At first Rapunzel was terribly friglitened when a man
such as her eyes had never yet behekl, came to her ; but
l^he King's son began to talk to her quite like a friend, and
told her that his heart had been so stirred that it had let
him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her.
Then Kapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she
would take him for her husband, and she sa,w that he was
young and handsome, she thought, " He will love me more '
than old Dame Gotliel does ; " and she said yes, and laid her
hand in his. She said, " I will willingly go away with
thee, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with
thee a skein of silk every time that thou comest, and I
will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will
descend, and thou wilt take me on thy horse." They
agreed that until that time he should come to her every
evening, for the old woman came by da}^ The enchant-
ress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said
to her, " Tell me. Dame Gothel, how it hapjDcns that you
are so much heavier for me to draw up than the young
King's son — he is with me in a moment." " Ah ! thou
wicked child," cried the enchantress, " What do I hear
thee say ! I thought I had separated thee from all the
world, and yet thou hast deceived me ! " In her anger
she clutched EajDunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them
twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with
the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the
lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless
that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had
to live in great grief and misery.

On the same day, however, that she cast out Rapunzel,
the enchantress in the evening fastened the braids of hair
which she had cut off to the hook of the window, and
when the King's son came and cried,

" Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down tliy hair,"

she let the hair down. The King's son ascended, but
he did not find his dearest Rapunzel above, but the
enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous
looks. " Aha ! " she cried mockingly, " Thou wouldst fetch
thy dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing

54 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 13.

in the nest ; tlie cat has got it, and will scratch out thy
eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to thee ; thou wilt never see
her more." The King's son was beside himself with pain,
and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He
escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell,
pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the
forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing
but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife.
Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at
length came to the desert where Eapunzel, with the twins
to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in
wretchedness. He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar
to him that he went towards it, and when he approached,
Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two
of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again,
and he could see with them as before. He led her to his
kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived
for a long time afterwards, happy and contented.

13.— THE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE
WOOD.

There was once a man whose wife died, and a woman
whose husband died, and the man had a daughter, and
the woman also had a daughter. The girls were ac-
quainted with each other, and went outwalking together,
and afterwards came to the woman in her house. Then
• said she to the man's daughter, "Listen, tell thy father
that I would like to marry him, and then thou shalt
wash thyself in milk every morning, and drink wine, but
my own daughter shall wash herself in water and drink
water." The girl went home, and told her father what
the woman had said. The man said, " What shall I do ?
Marriaiie is a joy and also a torment." At length as he
could come to no decision, he pulled off his boot, and said,
" Take this boot, it has a hole in the sole of it. Go with
it up to the loft, hang it on the big nail, and then pour
water into it. If it hold the water, then I will again take

Tale 13.] THE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE WOOD. 5[>

a wife, but if it run through, I will not." The girl did as
she was ordered, but the water drew the hole together,
and the boot became full to the top. She informed her
father how it had turned out. Then he himself went up,
and when he saw that she was right, he went to the
widow and wooed her, and the wedding was celebrated.

The next mornirig, when the two girls got up, there
stood before the man's daughter, milk for her to" wash in
and wine for her to drink, but before the woman's
dauo-hter stood water to wash herself with and water for
drinking. On the second morning, stood water for wash-
ing and water for drinking before the man's daughter
as well as before the woman's daughter. And on the
third morning; stood water for washins; and water for
drinking before the man's daughter, aud milk for washing
and wine for drinking, before the woman's daughter, and
so it continued. The woman became bitterly unkind to
her step-daughter, and day by day did her best to treat
her still worse. She was envious too because her step-
daughter was beautiful and lovable, and her own daughter
ugly and repulsive.

Once, in winter, when everything was frozen as hard as
a stone, and hill and vale lay covered with snow, the
woman made a frock of paper, called her step-daughter,
and said, " Here, put on this dress and go out into the
wood, and fetch me a little basketful of strawberries, — I
have a fancy for some." " Good heavens ! " said the girl,
" no strawberries grow in winter ! The ground is frozen,
and besides the snow has covered everything. And why
am I to go in this paper frock ? It is so cold outside that
one's very breath freezes ! The wind will blow through
the frock, and the thorns will tear it off my body." " Wilt
thou contradict me again ? " said the stepmother, " See
that thou goest, and do not show thy face again until
thou hast the basketful of strawberries ! " Then she gave
her a little piece of hard bread, and said, " This will last
thee the day," and thought, " Thou wilt die of cold and
hunger outside, and wilt never be seen again by me."

Then the maiden was obedient, and put on the paper
frock, and went out with the basket. Far and wide there
was nothing but snow, and not a green blade to be

56 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 13.

seen. When she got into the wood she saw a small house
out of which peeped three little dwarfs.* She wished
them good day, and knocked modestly at the door.
They cried, " Come in," and she entered the room and
seated herself on the bench by the stove, where she began
to warm herself and eat her breakfast. The elves said,
" Give US, too, some of it." " Willingly," said she, and
divided her bit of bread in two, and gave them the half.
They asked, " What dost thou here in the forest in the
winter time, in thy thin dress ? " " Ah," she answered,
" I am to look for a basketful of strawberries, and am not
to go home until I can take them with me." When she .
had eaten her bread, they gave her a broom and said,
" Sweep away the snow at the back door with it." But
when she was •outside, the three little men said to each
other, " What shall we give her as she is so good, and has
shared her bread with us?" Then said the first, "My
gift is, that she shall every day grow more beautiful."
'I'he second said, " My gift is, that gold pieces shall fall out
of her mouth every time she speaks." The third f?aid,
" My gift is, that a king shall come and take her to wife."
The girl, however, did as the little men had bidden her,
swept away the snow behind the little house with the
broom, and what did she find but real ripe strawberries,
which came up quite dark-red out of the snow ! In her
joy she hastily gathered her basket full, thanked the little
men, shook hands with each of them, and ran home to take
her step-mother what she had longed for so much. When
she went in and said good-evening, a piece of gold at once
fell out of her mouth. Thereupon she related what had
happened to her in the wood, but with every word she
spoke, gold pieces fell from her mouth, until very soon
the whole room was covered with them. " Now look at
her arrogance," cried the step-sister, " to throAv about gold
in that way ! " but she was secretly envious of it, and
wanted to go into the forest also to seek strawberries.
The mother said, " No, my dear little daughter, it is too

* In the original Haulemaunerclien — i.e., Hohlen-Waldmaunlein.
They are so called because they live in caves in the forests. They
are little dwarfs with large heads, and are supposed to steal unbuptized
children.— Tb.

Tale 13.] THE THREE LITTLE MEN IN THE WOOD. §?

cold, thou miglitest die of cold." However, as her daughter
let her have no peace, the mother at last yielded, made
her a magnificent dress of fur, whicii she was obliged to
put on, and gave her bread-and-butter and cake with her.

The girl went into the forest and straight up to the
little house. The three little elves peeped out again, but
she did not greet them, and without looking round at
them and without speaking to them, she went awkwardly
into the room, seated herself by the stove, and began to
eat her bread-and-butter and cake. " Give us some of
it," cried the little men; but she replied, " There is not
enough for myself, so how can I give it away to other
people ? " When she had done eating, they said, " There
is a broom for thee, sweep all clean for us outside by
the back-door." "Humph! Sweep for yourselves," she-
answered, " I am not your servant." When she saw that
they were not going to give her anything, she went out by
the door. Then the little men said to each other, " What
shall wfc give her as she is so naughty, and has a wicked
envious heart, that will never let her do a good turn to
any one ? " The first said, " I grant that she may grow
uglier every day." The second said, "I grant that at
every word she says, a toad shall spring out of her mouth."
The third said, " I grant that she may die a miserable
death." The maiden looked for strawberries outside,
but as she found none, she went angrily home. And.
when she opened her mouth, and was about to tell her
mother what had happened to her in the wood, with every
word she said, a toad sprang out of her mouth, so that
every one was seized with horror of her.

Then the step-mother was still more enraged, and
thought of nothing but how to do every possible injury
to the man's daughter, whose beauty, however, grew daily
greater. At length she took a cauldron, set it on the fire,
and boiled yarn in it. When it was boiled, she flung it
on the poor girl's shoulder, and gave her an axe in order
that she might go on the frozen river, cut a hole in the
ice, and rinse the yarn. She was obedient, went thither
and cut a hole in the ice ; and while she was in the midst
of her cutting, a splendid carriage came driving uj^, in
which sat the King. The carriage stopped, and the King

GRIMMS HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 13.

asked, " My child, who art thou, and what art thou doing
here ? " "I am a poor girl, and I am rinsing yarn." Then
the King felt compassion, and when he saw that she was
so very beautiful, he said to her, " Wilt thou go away
with me? " " Ah, yes, with all my heart," she answered,
for she was gilad to get away from the mother and sister.

So she got into the carriage and drove away with the
King, and when they arrived at his palace, the wedding
was celebrated with great pomp, as the little men had
granted to the maiden. When a year was over, the young
Queen bore a son, and as the step-mother had heard of her
great good-fortune, she came with her daughter to the
palace and pretended that she wanted to pay her a visit.
Once, however, when the King had gone out, and no one
else was present, the wicked woman seized the Queen by
the head, and her daughter seized her by the feet, and they
lifted her out of the bed, and threw her out of the window
into the stream which flowed by. Then the ugly daughter
laid herself in the bed, and the old woman covered her up
over her head. When the Kino; came home ao;ain and
wanted to speak to his wife, the old woman cried, " Hush,
hush, that can't be now, she is lying in a violent perspi-
ration ; you must let her rest to-da}^" The King suspected
no evil, and did not come back again till next morning ;
and as he talked with his wife and she answered him,
with every word a toad leaped out, whereas formerly a
piece of gold had fallen out. Then he asked what that
could be, but the old woman said that she had got that
from the violent perspiration, and would soon lose it again.
During the night, however, the scullion saw a duck come
swimming up the gutter, and it said,

"King, what art thou domg now?
Sleepest thou, or wakest thou?"

And as he returned no answer it said,

"And my guests, What may they do?"

The scullion said,

"They are sleeping soundly, too."
Then it asked again,

" What does little baby miue ? "

Tale 14.] THE THREE SPINNERS. 59

lie answered,

" Sleepeth in her cradle fine."

Then she went upstairs in the form of the Qneen, nursed
the baby, shook up its little bed, covered it over, and then
swam away again down the gutter in the shape of a duck.
She came thus for two nights ; on the third, she said to the
scullion, " Go and tell the King to take his sword and
swing it three times over me on the threshold." Then the
scullion ran and told this to the King, who came with his
sword and swung it thrice over the spirit, and at the
third time, his wife stood before him strong, living, and
healthy as she had been before. Thereupon the King was
full of great joy, but he kept the Queen hidden in a cham-
ber until the Sunday, when the baby was to be christened.
And when it was christened he said, " What does a person
deserve who drags another out of bed and throws him
in the water ? " " The wretch deserves nothing better,"
answered the old woman, " than to be taken and put in
a barrel stuck full of nails, and rolled down hill into the
water." " Then," said the King, " Thou hast pronounced
thine own sentence ; " and he ordered such a barrel to be
brought, and the old woman to be put into it with her
daughter, and then the top was hammered on, and the
barrel rolled down hill until it went into the river.

14.— THE THKEE SPINNEES.

There was once a girl who was idle and would not spin,
and let her mother say what she would, she could not
bring her to it. At last the mother was once so over-
come with anger and impatience, that she beat her, on
which the girl began to weep loudly. Now at this very
moment the Queen drove by, and when she heard the
weeping she stopped her carriage, went into the house and
asked the mother why she was beating her daughter so
that the cries could be heard out on the road? Then
the woman was ashamed to reveal the laziness of her

60 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 14..

daughter and said, " I cannot get lier to leave off spinning.
She insists on spinning for ever and ever, and I am poor,
and cannot procure the flax." Then answered the Queen,
" There is nothing that I like better to hear than spinning,
and I am never happier than when the wheels are humming.
Let me have your daughter with me in the palace, I have
flax enough, and there she shall spin as much as she
likes." The mother was heartily satisfied with this, and
the Queen took the girl with her. When they had arrived
at the palace, she led her up into three rooms which were
filled from the bottom to the top with the finest flax.
*' Now spin me this flax," said she, " and when thou hast
done it, thou shalt have my eldest son for a husband, even
if thou art poor. I care not for that, thy indefatigable
industry is dowry enough." The girl was secretly ter-
rified, for she could not have spun the flax, no, not if
she had lived till she was three hundred years old, and
had sat at it every day from morning till night. When
therefore she was alone, she began to weep, and sat "thus
fur three days without moving a finger. On the third day
came the Queen, and when she saw that nothing had beeu
spun yet, she was surprised ; but the girl excused herself
by saying that she had not been able to begin because
of her great distress at leaving her mother's house. The
Queen was satisfied with this, but said when she was
going away, " To-morrow thou must begin to work."

When the girl was alone again, she did not know what
to do, and in her distress went to the window. Then she
saw three women coming towards her, the first of whom
had a broad flat foot, the second had such a great under-
lip that it hung down over her chin, and the third had a
broad thumb. They remained standing before the window,
looked up, and asked the girl what Avas amiss with her ?
She complained of her trouble, and then they offered her
their help and said, " If thou wilt invite us to the wedding,
not be ashamed of us, and wilt call us thine aunts, and
likewise wilt place us at thy table, we T\dll spin up the
flax for thee, and that in a very short time." " With all
my heart," she replied, " do but come in and begin the
work at once." Then she let in the three strange women,
and cleared a place in the first room, where they seated

Tale 14.] THE THREE SPINNERS. 61

themselves and began their spinning. The one drew the
thread and trod the wheel, the other wetted the thread,
the third twisted it, and struck the table with her finger,
and as often as she struck it, a skein of thread fell to the
ground that was spun in the finest manner possible. The
girl concealed the three spinners from the Queen, and showed
her whenever she came the great quantity of spun thread,
until the latter could not praise her enough. When the
first room was empty she went to the second, and at last
to the third, and that too was quickly cleared. Then the
three women took leave and said to the girl, " Do not
forget what thou hast promised us, — it will make thy
fortune."

When the maiden showed the Queen the empty rooms,
and the great heap of yarn, she gave orders for the wedding,
and the bridegroom* rejoiced that he was to have such a
clever and industrious vvife, and praised her mightily.
"I have three aunts," said the girl, "and as they have
been very kind to me, I should not like to forget them in
my good fortune ; allow me to invite them to the wedding,
and let them sit with us at table." The Queen and the
bridegroom said, " Why should we not allow that ? "
Therefore when the feast began, the tTiree vv^omen entered
in strange apparel, and the bride said, " Welcome, dear
aunts." " Ah," said the bridegroom, " how comest thou
by these odious friends ? " Thereupon he went to the
one with the broad flat foot, and said, " How do you
come by such a broad foot ? " " By treading," she
answered, " by treading." Then the bridegroom went to
the second, and said, " How do you come by your falling
lip ? " " By licking," she answered, " by licking." Then
he asked the third, " How do you come by your broad
thumb? " " By twisting the thread," she answered, " by
twisting the thread." On this the King's son was alarmed
and said, " Neither now nor ever shall my beautiful bride
toLich a spinning-wheel." And thus she got rid of the
hateful fl^ax-spinning.

* Braiitigam, betrothed. The old English br^'dguma had the same
sigiiiticatiou, and was only applied to a betrothed man, just as bryd,
bride, was only applied to a betrothed w onian. — Tr.

62 GEIMM'S household tales. [Tale 15.

15.— HANSEL AND GEETHEL.

Hard by a great forest dwelt a poor wood-cutter witli
his wife and bis two children. The boy was called
Hansel and the girl Grethel. He had little to bite and to
break, and once when great scarcity fell on the land, he
could no longer procure daily bread. Now when he
thought over this by night in his bed, and tossed about in
his anxiety, he groaned and said to his wife, " What is to
become of us? How are we to feed our poor children,
when we no longer have anything even for ourselves?"
" I'll tell you what, husband," answered the woman,
*' Early to-morrow morning we will take the children out
into the forest to where it is the thickest, there Ave will
light a fire for them, and give each of them one piece of
bread more, and then we will go to our work and leave
them alone. They will not find the way home again, and
we shall be rid of them." " No, wife," said the man, " I
will not do that ; how can I bear to leave my children
alone in the forest ? — the wild animals would soon come and
tear them to pieces." " 0, thou fool ! " said she, " Then
we must all four die" of hunger, thou mayest as well plane
the planks for our coffins," and she left him no peace
until he consented. " But I feel veiy sorry for the poor
children, all the same," said the man.

The two children had also not been able to sleep for
hunger, and had heard what their step-mother had said
to their father. Grethel wept bitter tears, and said to
Hansel, " Now all is over with us." " Be quiet, Grethel,"
said Hansel, " do not distress thyself, I will soon find a
way to help us." And when the old folks had fallen
asleep, he got up, put on his little coat, opened the door
below, and crept outside. The moon shone brightly,
and the white pebbles which lay in front of the house
glittered like real silver pennies. Hansel stooped and put
as many of them in the litfle pocket of his coat as he
could possibly get in. Then he went back and said
to Grethel, " Be comforted, dear little sister, and sleep in
peace, God will not forsake us," and he lay down again in
his bed. When day dawned, but before the sun had risen,

Tale 15.] HANSEL AND GKETHEL. 63

the woman came and awoke the two children, saying,
" Get wp, you sluggards ! we are going into the forest to
fetch wood." She gave each a little piece of bread, and
said, "There is something for your dinner, but do not eat
it up before then, for you will get nothing else." Grethel
took the bread under her apron, as Hansel had the stones
in his pocket. Then they all set out together on the way
to the forest. When they had walked a short time,
Hansel stood still and peeped back at the house, and did
so again and again. His father said, " Hansel, what art
thou looking at there and staying behind for ? Mind
what thou art about, and do not forget how to use thy
legs." " Ah, father," said Hansel, " I am looking at my
little white cat, which is sitting up on the roof, and wants
to say good-bye to me." The wife said, " Fool, that is not
thy little cat, that is the morning sun which is shining on
the chimneys." Hansel, however, had not been looking
back at tne cat, but had been constantly throwing one of
the white pebble-stones out of his pocket on the road.

When they had reached the middle of the forest, the
father said, "Now, children, pile up some wood, and I will
light a fire that you may not be cold." Hansel and
Grethel gathered brushwood together, as high as a little
hill. The brushwood was lighted, and when the flames
were burning ybtj high the woman said, " Now, children,
lay yourselves down by the fire and rest, we will go into
the forest and cut some wood. When we have done, we
will come back and fetch you away."

Hansel and Grethel sat by the fire, and when noon
came, each ate a little piece of bread, and as they heard
the strokes of the wood-axe they believed that their father
was near. It was, however, not the axe, it was a branch
which he had fastened to a withered tree which the wind
was blowing backwards and forwards. And as they had
been sitting such a long time, their eyes shut with fatigue,
and they fell fast asleep. When at last they awoke, it
was already dark night. Grethel began to cry and said,
" How are we to get out of the forest now ? " But Hansel
comforted her and said, "Just wait a little, until the
moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way."
And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little

61 GEIMM'S household tales. [Tale 15.

sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles which shone
like newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the
way.

They walked the whole night long, and by break of
day came once more to their father's house. They
knocked at the door, and when the woman opened it
and saw that it was Hansel and Grethel, she said, " You
nanghty children, why have you slept so long in the
forest ? — we thought you were never coming back at all ! "
The father, however, rejoiced, for it had cut kim to the
heart to leave them behind alone.

Kot long afterwards, there was once more great scarcity
in all parts, and the children heard their mother saying
at night to their father, " Everything is eaten again, we
have one half loaf left, and after that there is an end.
The children must go, we will take them farther into the
wood, so that they will not find their way out ag^in ; there
is no other means of saving ourselves ! " The man's heart
was liea-vy, and he thought " it would be better for thee to
share the last mouthful with thy childien." The woman,
however, would listen to nothing that he had to say, but
scolded and reproached him. He who says A must say B,
likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to
do so a second time also.

The children were, however, still awake and had heard
the conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hansel
again got up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles,
but the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not
get out, >> evertheless he comforted his little sister, and
said, " Do not cry, Grethel, go to sleep quietly, the good
God will help us."

Early in the morning came the woman, and took the
children out of their beds. Their bit of bread was given
to them, but it was still smaller than the time before. On
the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in his pocket,
and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground.
*' Hansel, why dost thou stop and look round?" said the
father, " go on." " I am looking back at my little pigeon
which is sitting on the roof, and wants to say good-bye to
me," answered Hansel. " Simpleton ! " said the woman,
*' that is not thy little pigeon, that is the morning sun

Tale 15.] HANSEL AND GRETHEL. 65

that is shining on the chimney." Hansel, however, little
by little, threw all the crnnibs on the path.

The woman led the children still deeper into the forest,
where they had never in their lives been before. Then a
great fire was again made, and the mother said, " Just sit
there, you children, and when you are tired you may
sleep a little ; we are going into the forest to cut wood, and
in the evening when we are done, we will come and fetch
you away." When it was noon, Grethel shared her piece
of bread with Hansel, who had scattered his by the way.
Then they fell asleep and evening came and went, but no
one came to the poor children. They did not awake until it
was dark night, and Hansel comforted his little sister and
said, " Just wait, Grethel, until the moon rises, and then
we shall see the crumbs of bread which I have strewn
about, they will show us our way home again." When
the moon came they set out, but they found no crumbs,
for the many thousands of birds which fly about in the
woods and iields, had picked them all up. Hansel said to
Grethel, " We shall soon find the way," but they did not
find it. They walked the whole night and all the next
day too from morning till evening, but they did not get
out of the forest, and were very hungry, for they had
nothing to eat but two or three berries, which grew on the
ground. And as they were so weary that their legs would
carry them no longer, they lay down beneath a tree and
fell asleep.

It was now three mornings since they had left their
father's house. They began to walk again, but they always
got deeper into the forest, and if help did not come soon,
they must die of hunger and weariness. When it was
mid-day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on
a bough, which sang so delightfully that they stood still and
listened to it. And when it had finished its song, it spread
its wings and flew away before them, and they followed it
until they reached a little house, on the roof of which it
alighted; and when they came quite up to the little house
they saw that it was built of bread and covered with cakes,
but that the windows were of clear sugar. " We ^^ill set
to work on that," said Hansel, " and have a good meal. I
will eat a bit of the roof, and thou, Grethel, canst eat some

VOL, I. F

66 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 15.

of tlie window, it will taste sweet." Hansel reached up
above, and broke oif a little of the roof to trj" how it tasted,
and Grethel leant against the window and nibbled at the
panes. Then a soft voice cried from the room,

" Xibble, nibble, gnaw,
Who is nibbling at my little house ? '*

The children answered,

"^ " The wind, the winrl,

The heaven-born wind,"

and went on eating without disturbing themselves.
Hansel, who thought the roof tasted very nice, tore down
a great piece of it, and Grethel pushed out the whole of
one round window-pane, sat down, and enjoyed herself
with it. Suddenly the door opened, and a very, very old
woman, who supported herself on crutches, came creeping
out. Hansel and Grethel were so terribly frightened that
they let fall what they had in their hands. The old
woman, however, nodded her head, and said, " Oh, you
dear children, who has brought you here ? Do come
in, and stay with me. No harm shall happen to you."
She took them both by the hand, and led them into her
little house. Then good food was set before them, milk
and pancakes, with sugar, apples, and nuts. Afterwards
two pretty little beds were covered with clean white
linen, and Hansel and Grethel lay down in them, and
thought they were in heaven.

The old woman had only pretended to be so kind ;
she was in reality a wicked witch, who lay in wait for
children, and had only built the little bread house in
order to entice them there. When a child fell into her
power, she killed it, cooked and ate it, and that was a feast
day with her. Witches have red eyes, and cannot see far,
but they have a keen scent like the beasts, and are
aware when human beings draw near. When Hansel and
Grethel came into her neighbourhood, she laughed
maliciously, and said mockingly, " I have them, they shall
not escape me again ! " Early in the morning before the
children were awake, she was already up, and when she
saw both of them sleeping and looking so pretty, with

Tale 15.] HANSEL AND GRETHEL. 67

their plump red cheeks, she muttered to herself, " That
will be a dainty mouthful ! " Then she seized Hansel
with her shrivelled hand, carried him into a little
stable, and shut him in with a grated door. He might
scream as he liked, that was of no use. Then she went
to Grethel, shook her till she awoke, and cried, " Get up,
lazy thing, fetch some water, and cook something good
for thy brother, he is in the stable outside, and is to be
made fat. AVhen he is fat, I will eat him." Grethel began
to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain, she was forced to
do what the wicked witch ordered her.

And now the best food was cooked for poor Hansel, but
Grethel got nothing but crab-shells. Every morning the
woman crept to the little stable, and cried, " Hansel,
stretch out thy finger that I may feel if thou wilt soon
be fat." Hansel, however, stretched out a little bone to
her, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, could not see
it, and thought it was Hansel's finger, and was astonished
that there was no w^ay of fattening him. AVhen four
weeks had gone by, and Hansel still continued thin, she
was seized with impatience and would not wait any longer,
" Hola, Grethel," she cried to the girl, " be active, and
bring some water. Let Hansel be fat or lean, to-morrow
I will kill him, and cook him." Ah, how the poor little
sister did lament when she had to fetch the water, and
how her tears did flow down over her cheeks ! " Dear God,
do help us," she cried. " If the w^ild beasts in the forest
had but devoured us, we should at any rate have died
together." " Just keep thy noise to thyself," said the old
woman, " all that won't help thee at all."

Early in the morning, Grethel had to go out and hang
Tip the cauldron with the water, and light the fire. " We
will bake first," said the old woman, " I have already
heated the oven, and kneaded the dough." She pushed
poor Grethel out to the oven, from which flames of fire
were already darting. "'Creep in," said the witch, " and
see if it is properly heated, so that we can shut the bread in."
And when once Grethel was inside, she intended to shut the
oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too.
But Grethel saw w^hat she had in her mind, and said,
" I do not know how I am to do it ; how do you get in '? "

F 2

68 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 15.

" Silly goose," said the old woman. " The door is big
enough ; jnst look, I can get in myself ! " and she crept up
and thrust her head into the oven. Then Grethel gave her
a push that drove her far into it, and shut the iron door,
and fastened the holt. Oh ! then she began to howl quite
horribly, but Grethel ran away, and the godless witch was
miserably burnt to death.

Grethel, however, ran as quick as lightning to Hansel,
opened his little stable, and cried, " Hansel, we are saved !
The old witch is dead ! " Then Hansel sprang out like a
bird from its cage when the door is opened for it. How
they did rejoice and embrace each other, and dance about
and kiss each other ! And as they had no longer any
need to fear her, they went into the witch's house, and in
every corner there stood chests full of pearls and jewels.
" These are far better than pebbles ! " said Hansel, and
thrust into his pockets whatever could be got in, and
Grethel said, " I, too, will take something home with me,"
and filled her pinafore full. " But now we will go away,"
said Hansel, " that we may get out of the witch's forest."

When they had walked for two hours, they came to a great
piece of water. " We cannot get over," said Hansel, " I see
no foot-plank, and no bridge." " And no boat crosses
either," answered Grethel, " but a white duck is swimming
there ; if I ask her, she will help us over." Then she cried,

"Little duck, little duck, dost thou see,
Hansel aud Grethel are waiting for thee?
There's never a plank, or bridge in sight,
Take us across on thy back so white."

The duck came to them, and Hansel seated himself on
its back, and told his sister to sit by him. " No," replied
Grethel, " that vnll be too heavy for the little duck ; she
shall take us across, one after the other." The good little
duck did so, and when they were once safely across and
had walked for a short time, the forest seemed to be more
and more familiar to them, and at length they saw from
afar their father's house. Then they began to run, rushed
into the parlour, and threw themselves into their father's
arms. The man had not known one happy hour since he
had left the children in the forest ; the woman, however,
was dead. Grethel emptied her pinafore until pearls and

Tale 16.] THE THREE SNAKE -LEAVES. 69

precious stones ran about the room, and Hansel threw one
handful after another out of his pocket to add to them.
Then all anxiety was at an end, and they lived together
in perfect happiness. My tale is done, there runs a
mouse, whosoever catches it, may make himself a big
fur cap out of it.

16.— THE THEEE SNAKE-LEAVES.

There was once on a time a poor man, who could no
longer support his only son. Then said the son, " Dear
father, things go so badly with us that I am a burden
to you. I would rather go away and see how I can
earn my bread." So the father gave him his blessing,
and with great sorrow took leave of him. At this time
the King of a mighty empire was at war, and the youth
took service with him, and with him went out to fight.
And when he came before the enemy, there was a battle,
and great danger, and it rained shot until his comrades
fell on all sides, and when the leader also was killed,
those left were about to take flight, but the youth stepped
forth, spoke boldly to them, and cried, " We will not let
our fatherland be ruined ! " Then the others followed him,
and he pressed on and conquered the enemy. When the
King heard that he owed the victory to him alone, he raised
him above all the others, gave him great treasures, and
made him the first in the kingdom.

The King had a daughter who was very beautiful, but
she was also very strange. She had made a vow to take
no one as her lord and husband who did not promise
to let himself be buried alive with her if she died first.
" If he loves me with all his heart," said she, " of what
use will life be to him afterwards?" On her side she
would do the same, and if he died first, would go down to
the grave with him. This strange oath had up to this
time frightened away all wooers, but the youth became
so charmed with her beauty that he cared for nothing,
but asked her father for her. " But dost thou know what
thou must promise? " said the King. " I must be buried
with her," he replied, " if I outlive her, but my love is

70 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 16.

SO great that I do not mind the danger." Then the King
consented, and the wedding was solemnized with great
splendour.

They lived now for a while happy and contented with
each other, and then it befell that the young Queen was
attacked by a severe illness, and no physician could save
her. And as she lay there dead, the young King
remembered what he had been obliged to promise, and
was horrified at having to lie down alive in the grave,
but there was no escape. The King had placed sentries
at all the gates, and it was not possible to avoid his fate.
When the day came when the corpse was to be buried, he
wa taken down into the royal vault with it, and then
the door was shut and bolted.

Near the coffin stood a table on which were four candles,
four loaves of bread, and four bottles of wine, and when
this provision came to an end, he would have to die of
hunger. And now he sat there full of pain and grief,
ate every day only a little piece of bread, drank only a
mouthful of wine, and nevertheless saw death daily
drawing nearer. Whilst he thus gazed before him, he saw
a snake creep out of a corner of the vault and approach
the dead body. And as he thought it came to gnaw at it,
he drew his sword and said, " As long as I live, thou shalt
not touch her," and hewed the snake in three pieces.
After a time a second snake crept out of the hole, and
when it saw the other lying dead and cut in pieces, it
went back, but soon came again with three green leaves
in its mouth. Then it took the three pieces of the snake,
laid them together, as they ought to go, and placed one
of the leaves on each wound.* Immediately the severed
parts joined themselves together, the snake moved, and
became alive again, and both of them hastened away
together. The leaves were left lying on the ground, and
a desire came into the mind of the unhappy man who had
been watching all this, to know if the wondrous power of
the leaves which had brought the snake to life again,
could not likewise be of service to a human being. So

* It is strange that it did not occur to the Brothers Grimm that
three leaves were not -wanted. The snake was cut in three pieces, and
there could only have been two wounds. — Tr.

Tale 1G.] THE THREE SNAKE-LEAVES. 71

he j)icked up the leaves and laid one of them on the
mouth of his dead wife, and the two others on her eyes.
And hardly had he done this than the blood stirred in
her veins, rose into her pale face, and coloured it again.
Then she drew breath, opened her eyes, and s.iid, " Ah,
God, where am I ? " " Thou art with me, dear wife," he
answered, and told her how everything had happened,
and how he had brought her back again to life. Then
he gave her some wine and bread, and when she had re-
gained her strength, he raised her up and they went to
the door and knocked, and called so loudly that the
sentries heard it, and told the King. The King came
down himself and opened the door, and there he found
both strong and well, and rejoiced with them that now
all sorrow was over. The young King, however, took the
three snake-leaves with him, gave them to a servant and
said, " Keep them for me carefully, and carry them con-
stantly about thee ; who knows in what trouble they may
yet be of service to us ! "

A change had, however, taken place in his wife ; after
she had been restored to life, it seemed as if all love for
her husband had gone out of her heart. After some time,
when he wanted to make a voyage over the sea, to visit
his old father, and they had gone on board a ship, she
forgot the great love and fidelity which he had shown her,
and which had been the means of rescuing her from death,
and conceived a wicked inclination for the skipper. And
once when the young King lay there asleep, she called in
the skipper and seized the sleeper by the head, and the
skipper took him by the feet, and thus they threw him
down into the sea. When the shameful deed was done,
she said, " Now let us return home, and say that he died
on the way. I will extol and praise thee so to my father
that he will marry me to thee, and make thee the heir to
his crown." But the faithful servant who had seen all
that they did, unseen by them, unfastened a little boat
from the ship, got into it, sailed after his master, and
let the traitors go on their way. He fished up the dead
body, and by the help of the three snake-leaves which he
carried about with him, and laid on the eyes and mouth,
he fortunately brought the young King back to life.

72 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 17.

They both rowed with all their strength day and night,
and their little boat flew so swiftly that tliey readied
the old King before the others did. He was astonished
when he saw them, come alone, and asked what had
happened to them. When he learnt the wickedness of
his daughter he said, "I cannot believe that she has
behaved so ill, but the truth will soon come to light," and
bade both go into a secret chamber and keep themselves
hidden from every one. Soon afterwards the great ship
came sailing in, and the godless woman appeared before
her father with a troubled countenance. He said, " Why
dost thou come back alone? Where is thy husband?"
" Ah, dear father," she replied, " I come home again in
great grief; during the voyage, my husband became
suddenly ill and died, and if the good skipper had not
given me his help, it would have gone ill with me. He
was present at his death, and can tell you all." The
King said, " I will make the dead alive again," and opened
the chamber, and bade the two come out. When the
woman saw her husband, she was thunderstruck, and fell
on her knees and begged for mercy. The King said,
" There is no mercy. He was ready to die with thee and
restored thee to life again, but thou hast murdered him
in his sleep, and shalt receive the reward that thou
deservest." Then she was placed with her accomplice in
a ship which had been pierced with holes, and sent out to
sea, where they soon sank amid the waves.

17.— THE WHITE SNAKE.

A LONG time ago there lived a king who was famed for
his wisdom through all the land. Nothing was hidden
from him, and it seemed as if news of the most secret
things was brought to him through the air. But he had
a strange custom ; every day after dinner, when the table
was cleared, and no one else was present, a trusty servant
had to bring him one more dish. It was covered, how-
ever, and even the servant did not know what was in it,

Tale 17.] THE WHITE SNAKE. 73

neither did any one know, for the King never took off the
cover to eat of it until he was quite alone.

This had gone on for a long time, when one day the
servant, who took away the dish, was overcome with such
curiosity that he could not help carrying the dish into his
room. When he had carefully locked the door, he lifted up
the cover, and saw a white snake lying on the dish. But
when he saw it he could not deny himself the pleasure of
tasting it, so he cut off a little bit and put it into his
mouth. No sooner had it touched his tongue than he
heard a strange whispering of little voices outside his
window. He went and listened, and then noticed that it
was the sparrows who were chattering together, and
telling one another of all kinds of things which they had
seen in the fields and woods. Eating the snake had given
him power of understanding the language of animals.

Now it so happened that on this very day the Queen
lost her most beautiful ring, and suspicion of having
stolen it fell upon this trusty servant, who was allowed to
go everywhere. The King ordered the man to be brought
before him, and threatened with angry words that unless
he could before the morrow point out the thief, he himself
should be looked upon as guilty and executed. In vain
he declared his innocence ; he was dismissed with no
better answer.

In his trouble and fear he went down into the court-
yard and took thought how to help himself out of his
trouble. Now some ducks were sitting together quietly
by a brook and taking their rest ; and, whilst they were
making their feathers smooth with their bills, they were
having a confidential conversation together. The ser-
vant stood by and listened. They were telling one another
of all the places where they had been waddling about all
the morning, and what good food they had found ; and
one said in a pitiful tone, " Something lies heavy on my
stomach; as I was eating in haste I swallowed a ring
which lay under the Queen's window." The servant at
once seized her by the neck, carried her to the kitchen,
and said to the cook, " Here is a fine duck ; pray kill
her." " Yes," said the cook, and weighed her in his hand ;
" she has spared no trouble to fatten herself, and has been
waiting to be roasted long enough." So he cut off her

74 GEIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 17.

head, and as she was being dressed for the spit, the
Queen's ring was found inside her.

The servant could now easily prove his innocence ; and
the King, to make amends for the wrong, allowed him to
ask a favour, and promised him the best place in the court
that he could wish for. The servant refused everj'-thing,
and only asked for a horse and some money for travelling,
as he had a mind to see the world and go about a little.

AVhen his request was granted he set out on his way,
and one day came to a pond, where he saw three fishes
caught in the reeds and gasping for water. Kow, though
it is said that fishes are dumb, he heard them lamenting
that they must perish so miserably, and, as he had a kind
heart, he got off his horse and ]3ut the three prisoners
back into the water. They quivered with delight, put
out their heads, and cried to him, "We will remember
you and repay you for saving us ! "

He rode on, and after a while it seemed to him that he
heard a voice in the sand at his feet. He listened, and
heard an ant-king complain, " Why cannot folks, with
their clumsy beasts, keep off our bodies ? That stupid
horse, with his heavy hoofs, has been treading down my
people without mercy ! " So he turned on to a side path
and the ant-king cried out to him, " We will remember
you — one good turn deserves another ! "

The path led him into a wood, and there he saw two old
ravens standing by their nest, and throwing out their
young ones. " Out with you, you idle, good-for-nothing
creatures ! " cried they ; "we cannot find food for you any
longer ; you are big enough, and can provide for your-
selves." But the poor young ravens lay upon the ground
flapping their wings, and crying, "Oh, what helpless
chicles we are ! We must shift for ourselves, and jet we
cannot fly ! What can we do, but lie here and starve ? "
So the good young fellow alighted and killed his horse with
his sword, and gave it to them for food. Then they came
hopping up to it, satisfied their hunger, and cried, " We
will remember you — one good turn deserves another ! "

And now he had to use his own legs, and when he had
walked a long way, he came to a large city. There was
a o-reat noise and crowd in the streets, and a man rode up
on horseback, crying aloud, " The King's daughter wants

Tale 17.] THE WHITE SNAKE. 75

a husband ; but whoever sues for her hand must perform a
hard task, and if he does not succeed he will forfeit his life."
Many had already made the attempt, but in vain ; never-
theless when the youth saw the King's daughter he was so
overcome by her great beauty that he forgot all danger,
went before the King, and declared himself a suitor.

So he was led out to the sea, and a gold ring was
thrown into it, in his sight ; then the King ordered
him to fetch this ring up from the bottom of the sea, and
added, " If you come up again without it you will be
thrown in ao;ain and again until you perish amid the
waves." All the people grieved for the handsome youth ;
then they went away, leaving him alone by the sea.

He stood on the shore and considered what he should
do, when suddenly he saw three fishes come swim-
ming towards him, and they were the very fishes whose
lives he had saved. The one in the middle held a mussel
in its mouth, which it laid on the shore at the youth's feet,
and when he had taken it up and opened it, there lay the
gold ring in the shell. Full of joy he took it to the King,
and expected that he would grant him the promised reward.

But when the proud princess perceived that he was not
her equal in birth, she scorned him, and required him first
to perform another task. She went down into the garden
and strewed with her own hands ten sacks-full of millet-
seed on the grass ; then she said, " To-morrow morning
before sunrise these must be picked up, and not a single
grain be wanting."

The youth sat down in the garden and considered how
it might be possible to perform this task, but he could think
of nothing, and there he sat sorrowfully awaiting the
break of day, when he should be led to death. But as
soon as the first rays of the sun shone into the garden he
saw all the ten sacks standing side by side, quite full, and
not a single grain was missing. The ant-king had come
in the night with thousands and thousands of ants, and
the grateful creatures had by great industrj'- picked up all
the millet-seed and gathered them into the sacks.

Presently the King's daughter herself came down
into the garden, and was amazed to see that the 3'oung
man had done the task she had given him. But she

76 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 18. .

could not yet conquer her proud heart, and said,
" Although he has performed both the tasks, he shall not
be my husband until he has brought me an ajDple from
the Tree of Life."

The youth did not know where the Tree of Life stood,
but he set out, and would have gone on for ever, as long
as his legs would carry him, though he had no hope
of finding it. After he had wandered through three
kingdoms, he came one evening to a wood, and lay down
under a tree to sleep. But he heard a rustling in the
branches, and a golden apple fell into his hand. At
the same time three ravens flew down to him, perched
themselves upon his knee, and said, " We are the three
young ravens whom you saved from starving ; when we
had grown big, and heard that you were seeking the
Golden Apple, we flew over the sea to the end of the
world, where the Tree of Life stands, and have brought
you the apple." The youth, full of joy, set out home-
wards, and took the Golden Apple to the King's beautiful
daughter, who had now no more excuses left to make.
They cut the Ajople of Life in two and ate it together ;
and then her heart became full of love for him, and they
lived in undisturbed happiness to a great age.

18.— THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN.

In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered
together a dish of beans and wanted to cook them. So
she made a fire on her hearth, and that it might burn
the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw.
When she was emptying the beans into the pan, one
dropped without her observing it, and lay on the ground
beside a straw, and soon afterwards a burning coal from
the fire leapt down to the two. Then the straw began
and said, " Dear friends, from whence do you come here ? "
The coal replied, " I fortunately sprang out of the fire,
and if I had not escaped by main force, my death would

Tale 18.] THE STRAW, THE COAL, AND THE BEAN. 77

have been certain, — I should have been burnt to ashes."
The bean said, " 1 too have escaped with a whole skin,
but if the old woman had got me into the pan, I should
have been made into broth without any mercy, like my
comrades." " And would a better fate have fallen to my
lot ? " said the straw. " The old woman has destroyed all
my brethren in fire and smoke ; she seized sixty of them
at once, and took their lives. I luckily slipped through
her fingers."

" But what are we to do now ? " said the coal.

" I think," answered the bean, " that as we have so
fortunately escaped death, we should keep together like
good companions, and lest a new mischance should over-
take us here, we should go away together, and repair to a
foreign country."

The proposition pleased the two others, and they set
out on their way in company. Soon, however, they came
to a little brook, and as there was no bridge or foot-plank,
they did not know how they were to get over it. The
straw hit on a good idea, and said, " I will lay myself
straight across, and then you can walk over on me as on
a bridge." The straw therefore stretched itself from one
bank to the other, and the coal, who was of an impetuous
disposition, tripped quite boldly on to the newly-built
bridge. But when she had reached the middle, and heard
the water rushing beneath her, she was, after all, afraid,
and stood still, and ventured no farther. The straw,
however, began to burn, broke in two pieces, and fell into
the stream. The coal slipped after her, hissed when she
got into the water, and breathed her last. The bean, who
had prudently stayed behind on the shore, could not but
laugh at the event, was unable to stop, and laughed so
heartily that she burst. It would have been all over
with her, likewise, if, by good fortune, a tailor who was
travelling in search of work had not sat down to rest by
the brook. As he had a compassionate heart he pulled
out his needle and thread, and sewed her together. The
bean thanked him most prettily, but as the tailor used
black thread, all beans since then have a black seam.

78 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 19

19.— THE FISHEEMAN AND HIS WIFE.*

There was once on a time a Fisherman who lived with
his wife in a miserable hovel close by the sea, and every
day he went out fishing. And once as he was sitting
with his rod, looking at the clear water, his line suddenly
went down, far down below, and when he drew it up
again, he brought out a large Flounder. Then the
Flounder said to him, " Hark, you Fisherman, I pray you,
let me live, I am no Flounder really, but an enchanted
prince. What good will it do you to kill me ? I should
not be good to eat, put me in the water again, and let
me go." " Come," said the Fisherman, " there is no need
for so many words about it — a fish that can talk I
should certainly let go, anyhow," with that he put him back
again into the clear water, and the Flounder went to the
bottom, leaving a long streak of blood behind him. Then the
Fisherman got up and went home to his wife in the hovel.

" Husband," said the woman, " have you caught nothing
to-day ? " " No," said the man, " I did catch a Flounder,
who said he was an enchanted prince, so I let him go
again." " Did you not wish for anything first ? " said
the woman. " No," said the man ; " what should I wish
for ? " " Ah," said the woman, " it is surely hard to have
to live always in this dirty hovel ; you might have wished
for a small cottage for us. Go back and call him. Tell him
we want to have a small cottage, he will certainly give us
that." " Ah," said the man, " why should I go there
again ? " " Why," said the woman, " you did catch him,
and you let him go again ; he is sure to do it. Go at
once." The man still did not quite like to go, but did
not like to oppose his wife, and went to the sea.

When he got there the sea was all green and yellow,
and no longer so smooth ; so he stood and said,

" Flounder, flounder in the sea.
Come, I pray thee, here to me ;
For my wife, good Il.-abil,t
Wills not as I'd have her will."

* Aecordins: to the late William Howitt, this story was communi-
cated to the Brothers Grimm by Mr. Henry Crabbe Robinson, who
had it from an old woman. See 'Diary of H. C Robinson.' — Tr.

t Isabel.— Tb.

Tale la] THE FISHEKMAN AND HIS WIFE. 79

Then the Flounder came swimming to him and said,
" Well, what does she want, then ? " " Ah," said the
man, " I did catch you, and my wife says I really ought
to have wished for something. She does not like to
live in a wretched hovel any longer ; she would like to
have a cottage." " Go, then," said the Flounder, " she
has it already."

When the man went home, his wife was no longer
in the hovel, but instead of it there stood a small
cottage, and she was sitting on a bench before the door.
Then she took him by the hand and said to him, " Just
come inside, look, now isn't this a great deal better ? "
So they went in, and there was a small porch, and a
pretty little parlour and bedroom, and a kitchen and
pantry, with the best of furniture, and fitted ap with
the most beautiful things made of tin and brass, what-
soever was wanted. And behind the cottage there was a
small yard, with hens and ducks, and a little garden with
flowers and fruit. " Look," said the wife, " is not that
nice ! " " Yes," said the husband, " and so we must always
think it, — now we will live quite contented." " We will
think about that," said the wife. With that they ate
something and went to bed.

Everything went well for a week or a fortnight, and
then the woman said, " Hark you, husband, this cottage
is far too small for us, and the garden and yard are
little ; the Flounder might just as well have given us a
larger house. I should like to live in a great stone castle ;
go to the Flounder, and tell him to give us a castle."
" Ah, wife," said the man, " the cottage is quite good
enough ; why should we live in a castle ? " " What I "
said the woman; "just go there, the Flounder can
always do that." " No, wife," said the man, " the
Flounder has just given us the cottage, I do not like
to go back so soon, it might make him angry." " Go,"
said the woman, "he can do it quite easily, and will
be glad to do it ; just you go to him."

The man's heart grew heavy, and he would not go.

He said to himself, " It is not right," and yet he went.

And when he came to the sea the water was quite purple

• and dark-blue, and grey and thick, and no longer so

80 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 19.

green and yellow, but it was still quiet. And he stood
there and said —

" Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Come, I pray thee, here to mej
For my wife, good Ilsabil,
Wills not as I'd have her will."

" Well, what does she want, then ? " said the Flounder.
" Alas," said the man, half scared, " she wants to live in
a great stone castle." " Go to it, then, she is standing
before the door," said the Flounder.

Then the man went away, intending to go home, but
when he got there, he found a great stone palace, and
his wife was just standing on the steps going in, and
she took him by the hand and said, " Come in." So
he went in with her, and in the castle was a great
hall paved with marble, and many servants, who flung
wide the doors ; and the walls were all bright with
beautiful hangings, and in the rooms were chairs and
tables of pure gold, and crj^-stal chandeliers hung from
the ceiling, and all the rooms and bed-rooms had carpets,
and food and wine of the very best were standing on all
the tables so that they nearly broke down beneath it.
Behind the house, too, there was a great court-yard, with
stables for horses and cows, and the very best of carriages ;
there was a magnificent large garden, too, with the
most beautiful flowers and fruit-trees, and a park quite
half a mile long, in which were stags, deer, and hares,
and everything that could be desired. " Come," said
the woman, " isn't that beautiful ? " " Yes, indeed,"
said the man, " now let it be ; and we will live in this
beautiful castle and be content." " We will consider
about that," said the woman, " and sleep upon it ; " there-
upon they went to bed.

Next morning the wife awoke first, and it was just
daybreak, and from her bed she saw the beautiful country
lying before her. Her husband was still stretching
himself, so she poked him in the side with her elbow,
and said, "Get up, husband, and just peep out of the
window. Look you, couldn't we be the King over all that
land ? Go to the Flounder, we will be the King." " Ah, •

Tale 19.] THE FISHERMAN AND HIS WIFE. 81

wife," said the man, " why should we be King? I do not
want to be King." " Well," said the wife, " if yon won't
be King, I will; go to the Flounder, for I will be King."
" Ah, wife," said the man, " why do you want to be King ?
I do not like to say that to him." " Why not ? " said the
woman ; " go to him this instant ; I must be King ! " So
the man went, and was quite unhappy because his wife
wished to be King. " It is not right ; it is not right,"
thought he. He did not wish to go, but yet he went.

And when he came to the sea, it was quite dark-grey,
and the water heaved up from below, and smelt putrid.
Then he went and stood by it, and said,

"Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Come, I pray thee, here to me;
For my wife, good Ilsabil,
Wills not as I'd have her will."

" Well, what does she want, then ? " said the Flounder.
*' Alas," said the man, " she wants to be King." " Go to
her ; she is King already."

So the man went, and when he came to the palace, the
castle had become much larger, and had a great tower
and magnificent ornaments, and the sentinel was standing
before the door, and there were numbers of soldiers with
kettle-drums and trumpets. And when he went inside
the house, everything was of real marble and gold, with
velvet covers and great golden tassels. Then the doors
of the hall were opened, and there was the court in all
its splendour, and his wife was sitting on a high throne
of gold and diamonds, with a great crown of gold on her
head, and a sceptre of pure gold and jewels in her hand,
and on both sides of her stood her maids-in-waiting in a
row, each of them always one head shorter than the last.

Then he went and stood before her, and said, " Ah,
wife, and now you are King." *' Yes," said the woman,
" now I am King." So he stood and looked at her, and
when he had looked at her thus for some time, he said,
" And now that you are King, let all else be, now we will
wish for nothing more." "Nay, husband," said the
woman, quite anxiously, " I find time pass very heavily,
I can bear it no longer ; go to the Flounder — I am King,
but I must be Emperor, too." " Alas, wife, why dp you

VOL. I. G

82 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 19.

wish to be Emperor ? " " Husband," said slie, " go to the
Flounder. I will be Emperor." " Alas, wife," said the
man, "he cannot make you Emperor; I may not say
that to the fish. There is only one Emperor in the land.
An Emperor the Flounder cannot make you ! I assure you
he cannot."

"What!" said the woman, "I am the King, and you
are nothing but my husband; will 3'ou go this moment?
go at once ! If he can make a king he can make an
emperor. I will be Emperor ; go ins-^.antly." So he was
forced to go. As the man went, however, he was troubled
in mind, and thought to himself, " It will not end well ;
it will not end well ! Emperor is too shameless ! The
Flounder will at last be tired out.''

With that he reached the sea, and the sea was quite
black and thick, and began to boil up from below, so that
it threw up bubbles, and such a sharp \^ ind blew over it
that it curdled, and the man was afraid. Then he went
and stood by it, and said,

"Flounder, flounder in the sea,
Ciine, I pray thee, here to me;
For my wife, sood Ilsabil,
Wills not as I'd have her will."

" Well, what does she want, then ? " said the Flounder.
"Alas, Flounder," said he, "my wife wants to be Em-
peror." " Go to her," said the Flounder ; " she is Emperor
already."

So the man went, and when he got there the whole
palace was made of polished marble with alabaster figures
and golden ornaments, and soldieis were marching befoie
the door blowing trumpets, and beating cymbals and
drums ; and in the house, barons, and counts, and dukes
were going about as servants. Then they opened the doors
to him, which were of pure gold. And when he entered,
there sat his wife on a throne, which was made of one
piece of gold, and was quite two miles high ; and she
wore a great golden crown that w^as three yards high,
and set with diamonds and carbuncles, and in one hand
she had the sceptre, and in the other the imperial orb ;
and on both sides of her stood the yeomen of the guard
in two rows, each being smaller than the one before him.

Tale 19.] THE FISHEEMAN AND HIS WIFE. 83

from the biggest giant, who was two miles high, to the
very smallest dwarf, just as big as my little finger. And
before it stood a number of princes and dukes.

Then the man went and stood among them, and said,
" Wife, are you Emperor now ? " " Yes," said she, " now I
am Emperor." Then he stood and looked at her well,
and when he had looked at her thus for some time, he said,
" Ah, wife, be content, now that you are Emperor."
*' Husband," said she, " why are you standing there ? Now,
I am Emperor, but I will be Pope too ; go to the Flounder."
".Alas, wife," said the man, "what will you not wish for?
You cannot be Pojdc ; there is but one in Christendom ; he
cannot make you Pope." " Husband," said she, " I will
be Pope ; go immediately, I must be Pope this very day."
" No, wife," Sfiid the man, " I do not like to say that to
him ; that would not do, it is too much ; the Flounder can't
make you Pope." " Husband," said she, " what nonsense !
if he can make an emperor he can make a pope. Go to
him directly. I am Emperor, and you are nothing but my
husband ; will you go at once ? "

Then he was afraid and went ; but he was quite
faint, and shivered and shook, and his knees and legs
trembled. And a high wind blew over the land, and the
clouds flew, and towards evening all grew dark, and the
leaves fell from the trees, and the water rose and roared
as if it were boiling, and splashed upon the shore ; and in
the distance he saw ships which were firing guns in their
sore need, pitching and tossing on the waves. And yet in
the midst of the sky there was still a small bit of blue,
though on every side it was as red as in a heavy storm.
So, full of despair, he went and stood in much fear and
said,

"Flounder, flounder in the sea.

Come, I pray thee, here to me;

For my wife, good llsabil,

"Wills not as I'd have her will."

*' Well, what does she want, then ? " said the Flounder.
" Alas," said the man, "she wants to be Pope." " Go to
her then, ' said the Flounder; " she is Pope already."

So he went, and when he got there, he saw what seemed
to be a large church surrounded bv palaces. He pushed

G 2

84 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 19.

his way through the crowd. Inside, however, everything
was lighted up with thousands and thousands of candles,
and his wife was clad in gold, and she was sitting on a
much higher throne, and had three great golden crowns
on, and round about her there was much ecclesiastical
splendour ; and on both sides of her was a row of candles
the largest of which was as tall as the very tallest tower,
down to the very smallest kitchen candle, and all the em-
perors and kings were on their knees before her, kiss-
ing her shoe. " Wife," said the man, and looked atten-
tively at her, " are you now Pope ? " " Yes," said she, " I
am Pope." So he stood and looked at her, and it was just
as if he was looking at the bright sun. When he had
stood looking at her thus for a short time, he said, " Ah,
wife, if you are Pope, do let well alone ! " But she looked
as stiff as a post, and did not move or show any signs
of life. Then said he, " Wife, now that you are Pope, be
satisfied, you cannot become anything greater now." " I
will consider about that," said the woman. Iliereupon
they both went to bed, but she was not satisfied, and
greediness let her have no sleep, for she was continually
thinking what there was left for her to be.

The man slept well and soundly, for he had run
about a great deal during the day ; but the woman could
not fall asleep at all, and flung herself from one side to
the other the whole night through, thinking always
what more was left for her to be, but unable to call to
mind anything else. At length the sun began to rise,
and when the woman saw the red of dawn, she sat up in bed
and looked at it. And when, through the window, she
saw the sun thus rising, she said, " Cannot I, too, order
the sun and moon to rise ? " " Husband," said she, j)oking
him in the ribs with her elbows, "wake up! go to the
Flounder, for I wish to be even as God is." The man
was still half asleep, but he was so horrified that he fell
out of bed. He thought he must have heard amiss, and
rubbed his eyes, and said, " Alas, wife, what are you
saying ? " " Husband," said she, " if I can't order the
sun and moon to rise, and have to look on and see the sun
and moon rising, 1 can't bear it. I shall not know what
it is to have another happy hour, unless I can make them

Tale 20.] THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR. 85

rise myself. " Then she looked at him so terribly that a
shudder ran over him, and said, *' Go at once ; I wish to be
like unto God." " Alas, wife," said the man, falling on his
knees before her, " the Flounder cannot do that ; he can
make an emperor and a pope ; I beseech you, go on as you
are, and be Pope." Then she fell into a rage, and her
hair flew wildly about her head, and she cried, " I will
not endure this, I'll not bear it any longer ; wilt thou go ? "
Then he put on his trousers and ran away like a madman.
But outside a great storm was raging, and blowing so
hard that he could scarcely keep his feet; houses and
trees toppled over, the mountains trembled, rocks rolled
into the sea, the sky was pitch black, and it thundered
and lightened, and the sea came in with black waves as
high as church-towers and mountains, and all with crests
of white foam at the top. Then he cried, but could not
hear his own words,

"FlouDder, flounder in the sea.
Come, I pray thee, here to me;
^ For my wife, good Ilsabil,

Wills not as I'd have her will."

" Well, what does she want, then ? " said the Flounder.
"Alas," said he, " she wants to be like unto God." " Go
to her, and you will find her back again in the dirty
hovel." And there they are living still at this very time.

20.— THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR.

One summer's morning a little tailor was sitting on his
table by the window ; he was in good spirits, and sewed
with all his might. Then came a peasant woman down
the street crying, " Good jams, cheap ! Good jams, cheap ! "
This rang pleasantly in the tailor's ears ; he stretched
his delicate head out of the window, and called, " Come
up here, dear woman ; here you will get rid of your
goods." The woman came up the three steps to the
tailor with her heavy basket, and he made her unpack
the whole of the pots for him. He inspected all of
them, lifted them up, put his nose to them, and at
length said, " The jam seems to me to be good, so weigh

8Q GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 20.

me out four ounces, dear woman, and if it is a quarter of
a pound that is of no consequence." The woman who had
hoped to find a good sale, gave him what he desired, but
went away quite angrj^ and grumbling. " Now, God
bless the jam to my use," cried the little tailor, " and give
me health and strength ; " so he brought the bread out
of the cupboard, cut himself a piece right across the loaf
and spread the jam over it. " This won't taste bitter,"
said he, " but I Avill just finish the jacket before I take a
bite." He laid the bread near him, sewed on, and in his
joy, made bigger and bigger stitches. In the meantime
the smell of the sweet jam ascended so to the wall, where
the flies were sitting in great numbers, that they were
attracted and descended on it in hosts. " Hola ! who
invited you?" said the little tailor, and drove the un-
bidden guests away. The flies, however, who understood
no German, would not be turned away, but came back
again in ever-increasing companies. Then the little
tailor at last lost all .patience, and got a bit of cloth from the
hole under his work-table, and saying, " Wait, and I will
give it to 3'OU," struck it mercilessly on them. W hen he
drew it away and counted, there lay before him no fewer
than seven, dead and with legs stretched out. " Art thou
a fellow of that sort ? " said he, and could not help admir-
ing his own bravery. " The whole town shall know of
this ! " And the little tailor hastened to cut himself a
girdle, stitched it, and embroidered on it in large letters,
"Seven at one stroke!" "What, the town!" he con-
tinued, " The whole world shall hear of it ! " and his
heart wagged with joy like a lamb's tail. The tailor
put on the girdle, and resolved to go forth into the
world, because he thought his workshop was too small for
his valour. Before he went away, he sought about
in the house to see if there was anything which he could
take with him ; however," he found nothing but an old
cheese, and that he put in his'pocket. In front of the door
he observed a bird which had caught itself in the thicket.
It had to go into his pocket with the cheese. Kow he took,
to the road boldly, and as he was light and nimble, he
felt no fatigue. The road led him up a mountain, and
when he had reached the highest point of it, there sat a

Tale 20]. THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR. 87

powerful giant looking abont him quite comfortably.
The little tailor went bravely up, spoke to him, and said,
" Good day, comrade, so thou art fitting there overlooking
the wide-spread woi Id ! I am just on my way thither, and
want to try my luck. Hast thou any inclination to go
with me ? " The giant looked contemptuously at the tailor,
and said, " Thou ragamuffin ! Thou miserable creature ! "
" Oh, indeed ? " answered the little tailor, and unbut-
toned his coat, and showed the giant the girdle, " There
mayst thou read what kind of a man I am ! " The giant
read, " Seven at one stroke," and thought that they had
been men whom the tailor had killed, and began to feel a
little respect for the tiny fellow. Nevertheless, he wished
to try him first, and took a stone in his hand and squeezed
it together so that water dropped out of it. " Do that
likewise," said the giant, " if thou hast strength ? " " Is
that all ? " said the tailor, " that is child's play with us ! "
and put his hand into his pocket, brought out the soft
cheese, and pressed it until the liquid ran out of it.
" Faith," said he, " that was a little better, wasn't it ?"
The giant did not know what to say, and could not believe
it of the little man. Then the giant picked up a stone
and threw it so high that the eye could scarcely follow it.
*' Now, little mite of a man, do that likewise." " Well
thrown," said the tailor, "but after all the stone came
down to earth again ; I will throw you one which shall
never come back at all," and he put his hand into his
pocket, took out the bird, and threw it into the air. The
bird, delighted with its liberty, rose, flew away and did not
come back. " How does that shot please you, comrade ? "
asked the tailor. " Thou canst certainly throw," said the
giant, " but now we will see if thou art able to carry
anything properly." He took the little tailor to a
mighty oak tree which lay there felled on the ground, and
said, " If thou art strong enough, help me to carry the
tree out of the forest." " Keadily," answered the little
man ; " take thou the trunk on thy shoulders, and I Avill
raise up the branches and twigs; after all, they are the
heaviest." The giant took the trunk on his shoulder, but
the tailor seated himself on a branch, and the giant who
could not look round, had to carry away the whole tree,

88 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 20.

and the little tailor into the bargain : he behind, was quite
meiTy and happy, and whistled the song, " Three tailors
rode forth from the gate," as if carrying the tree were child's
play. The giant, after he had dragged the heavy burden
part of the way, could go no further, and cried, " Hark
you, I shall have to let the tree fall ! " The tailor sprang
nimbly down, seized the tree with both arms as if he had
been carrying it, and said to the giant, " Thou art such a
great fellow, and yet canst not even carry the tree ! "

They went on together, and as they passed a cherry-
tree, the giant laid hold of the top of the tree where the
ripest fruit was hanging, bent it down, gave it into the
tailor's hand, and bade him eat. But the little tailor was
much too weak to hold the tree, and when the giant let it
go, it sprang back again, and the tailor was hurried
into the air with it. When he had fallen down again
without injury, the giant said, " What is this ? Hast
thou not strength enough to hold the weak twig ? "
" There is no lack of strength," answered the little tailor.
" Dost thou think that could be anything to a man who
has struck down seven at one blow? I leapt over the
tree because the huntsmen are shooting down there in the
thicket. Jump as I did, if thou canst do it." The giant
made the attempt, but could not get over the tree, and
remained hanging in the branches, so that in this also
the tailor kept the upper hand.

The giant said, " If thou art such a valiant fellow,
come with me into our cavern and spend the night with
us." The little tailor was willing, and followed him.
When they went into the cave, other giants were sitting
there by the fire, and each of them had a roasted sheep in
his hand and was eating it. The little tailor looked round
and thought, "It is much more spacious here than in my
workshop." The giant showed him a bed, and said he was
to lie down in it and sleep. The bed was, however, too big
for the little tailor ; he did not lie down in it, but crept
into a corner. When it was midnight, and the giant
thought that the little tailor was Ij^ing in a sound sleep,
he got up, took a great iron bar, cut through the bed with
one blow, and thought he had given the grasshopper his
finishing stroke. With the earliest dawn the giants went

Tale 20.] THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR. 89

into the forest, and had quite forgotten the little tailor,
when all at once he walked up to them quite merrily and
boldly. The giants were terri^ed, they were afraid that
he won Id strike them all dead, and ran away in a great
hurry.

'I'ne little tailor went onwards, always following his
own pointed nose. After he had walked for a long time,
he came to the court-yard of a royal palace, and as he
felt weary, he lay down on the grass and fell asleep.
Whilst he lay there, the people came and inspected him
on all sides, and read on his girdle, " Seven at one stroke."
"Ah ! " said they, " What does the great warrior here in
the midst of peace ? He must be a mighty lord." They
went and announced him to the King, and gave it as
their opinion that if war should break out, this would be a
weighty and useful man who ought on no account to be
allowed to depart. The counsel pleased the King, and he
sent one of his courtiers to the little tailor to offer
him military service when he awoke. The ambassador
remained standing by the sleeper, waited until he stretched
his limbs and opened his eyes, and then conveyed to him
this proposal. " For this very reason have I come here,"
the tailor replied, " I am ready to enter the King's
service." He was therefore honourably received, and a
separate dwelling was assigned him.

The soldiers, however, were set against the little tailor,
and wished him a thousand miles away. " What is to be
the end of this ? " they said amongst themselves. " If we
quarrel with him, and he strikes about him, seven of us
will fall at every blow ; not one of us can stand against
him." They came therefore to a decision, betook them-
selves in a body to the King, and begged for their
dismissal. " We are not prepared," said they, " to stay
with a man who kills seven at one stroke." The King was
sorry that for the sake of one he should lose all his faithful
servants, wished that he had never set eyes on the tailor,
and would willingly have been rid of him again. But
he did not venture to give him his dismissal, for he
dreaded lest he should strike him and all his people dead,
and place himself on the royal throne. He thought about
it for a long time, and at last found good counsel. He

90 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 20.

sent to the little tailor and caused him to be informed that
as he was such a great warrior, he had one request to make
to him. In a forest of his country lived two giants,
who caused great mischief with their robbing, murder-
ing, ravaging, and burning, and no one could approach
them without putting himself in danger of death. If the
tailor conquered and killed these two giants, he would give
him his only daughter to wife, and half of his kingdom as
a dowry, likewise one hundred horsemen should go with
him to assist him. " That would indeed be a fine thing
for a man like me ! " thought the little tailor. '* One is not
offered a beautiful princess and half a kingdom every day
of one's life ! " " Oh, yes," he replied, " I will soon subdue
the giants, and do not require the help of the hundred
horsemen to do it ; he who can hit seven with one blow,
has no need to be afraid of two."

The little tailor went forth, and the hundred horsemen
followed him. When he came to the outskirts of the
forest, he said to his followers, " Just stay waiting here,
I alone will soon finish off the giants." Then he bounded
into the forest and looked about right and left. After
a while he perceived both giants. They lay sleeping
under a tree, and snored so that the branches waved up
and down. The little tailor, not idle, gathered two
pocketsful of stones, and with these climbed up the tree.
When he was half-way up, he slipped down by a branch,
until he sat just above the sleepers, and then let one stone
after another fall on the breast of one of the giants. For
a long time the giant felt nothing, but at last he awoke,
pushed his comrade, and said, " Why art thou knocking
me ? " " Thou must be dreaming," said the other, " I am
not knocking thee." They laid themselves down to sleep
again, and then the tailor threw a stone down on the
second. " What is the meaning of this ? " cried the
other. " Why art thou pelting me?" "I am not pelt-
ing thee," answered the first, growling. They disputed
about it for a time, but as they were weary they let
the matter rest, and their eyes closed once more. The
little tailor began his game again, picked out the biggest
stone, and threw it with all his might on the breast of
the first giant. " That is too bad! " cried he, and sprang

Tale 20.] THE VALIANT LITTLE TAILOR. 91

up like a madman, and pushed his companion against the
tree until it shook. The other paid him back in the same
coin, and they got into such a rage that they tore up trees
and belaboured each other so long, that at last they both
fell down dead on the ground at the same time. I'hen
the little tailor leapt down. " It is a lucky thing," said
he, " that they did not tear up the tree on which I was
sitting, or I should have had to spring on to another
like a squirrel ; but we tailors are nimble." He drew out
his sword and gave each of them a couple of thrusts in
the breast, and then went out to the horsemen and said,
" The work is done ; I have given both of them their
finishing stroke, but it was hard work ! They tore up
trees in their sore need, and defended themselves with
them, but all that is to no purpose when a man like myself
comes, who can kill seven at one blow." " But are you not
wounded?" asked the horsemen. " You need not concern
yourself about that," answered the tailor, " They have
not bent one hair of mine." The horsemen would not
believe him, and rode into the forest ; there they found
the giants swimming in their blood, and all round about,
lay the torn-up trees.

The little tailor demanded of the King the promised
reward ; he, however, repented of his promise, and again
bethought himself how he could get rid of the hero.
" Before thou receivest my daughter, and the half of my
kingdom," said he to him, " thou must perform one more
heroic deed. In the forest roams a unicorn which does
great harm, and thou must catch it first." " I fear one
unicorn still less than two giants. Seven at one blow,
is my kind of affair." He took a rope and an axe with
him, went forth into the forest, and again bade those who
were sent with him to wait outside. He had not to seek Ions:.
The unicorn soon came towards him, and rushed directly
on the tailor, as if it would spit him on its horn without
more ceremony. " Softly, softly ; it can't be done as
quickly as that," said he, and stood still and waited until
the animal was quite close, and then sprang nimbly
behind the tree. The unicorn ran against the tree with
all its strength, and struck its horn so fast in the trunk
"that it had not strength enough to draw it out again, and

92 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 20.

thus it was caught. " Now, I have got the bird," said the
tailor, and came out from behind the tree and put the
rope round its neck, and then with his axe he hewed
the horn out of the tree, and when all was ready he led
the beast away and took it to the King.

The King still would not give him the promised reward,
and made a third demand. Before the wedding the
tailor was to catch him a wild boar that made great havoc
in the forest, and the huntsmen should give him their
help. " Willingly," said the tailor, " that is child's play ! "
He did not take the huntsmen with him into the forest,
and they were well pleased that he did not, for the wild
boar had several times received them in such a manner
that they had no inclination to lie in wait for him.
When the boar perceived the tailor, it ran on him with
foaming mouth and' whetted tusks, and was about to
throw him to the ground, but the active hero sprang into
a chapel which was near, and up to the window at once,
and in one bound out again. The boar ran in after him,
but the tailor ran round outside and shut the door behind
it, and then the raging beast, which was much too heavy
and awkward to leap out of .the window, Avas caught.
The little tailor called the huntsmen thither that they
might see the prisoner with their own eyes. The hero,
however, went to the King, who was now, whether he liked
it or not, obliged to keep his promise, and gave him his
daughter and the half of his kingdom. Had he known
that it was no warlike hero, but a little tailor who was
standing before him, it would have gone to his heart still
more than it did. The wedding was held with great
magnificence and small joy, and out of a tailor a king
was made.

After some time the young Queen heard her husband
say in his dreams at night, " Boy, make me the doublet,
and patch the pantaloons, or else I will rap the yard-
measure over thine ears." Then she discovered in what
state of life the young lord had been born, and next
morning complained of her wrongs to her father, and
begged him to help her to get rid of her husband, who
was nothing else but a tailor. The King comforted her
and said, " Leave thy bed-room door open this night, and

Tale 21.] CINDEKELLA. 93

my servants shall stand outside, and when he has fallen
asleep shall go in, bind him, and take him on board a ship
which shall carry him into the wide world." The
woman was satisfied with this ; but the King's armour-
bearer, who had heard all, was friendly with the young
lord, and informed him of the whole plot. " I'll put a
screw into that business," said the little tailor. At night
he went to bed with his wife at the usual time, and when
she thought that he had fallen asleep, she got up, opened
the door, and then lay down again. The little tailor,
who was only pretending to be asleep, began to cry out
in a clear voice, " Boy, make me the doublet and patch me
the pantaloons, or I will rap the yard-measure over thine
ears. I smote seven at one blow. I killed two giants, I
brought away one unicorn, and caught a wild boar, and
am I to fear those who are standing outside the room."
When these men heard the tailor speaking thus, they
were overcome by a great dread, and ran as if the wild
huntsman were behind them, and none of them would
venture anything further against him. So the little
tailor was a king and remained one, to the end of his life.

21.— CINDEEELLA.

The wife of a rich man fell sick, and as she felt that her
end was drawing near, she called her only daughter to
her bedside and said, " Dear child, be good and pious, and
then the good God will always protect thee, and I will,
look down on thee from heaven and be near thee." There-
upon she closed her eyes and departed. Every day the
maiden went out to her mother's grave and wept, and
she remained pious and good. When winter came the
snow spread a white sheet over the grave, and when
the spring sun had drawn it off again, the man had taken
another wife.

The woman had brought two daughters into the house
with her, who were beautiful and fair of face, but vile
and black of heart. Now began a bad time for the poor
step-child. "Is the stupid goose to sit in the parlour
with us? " said they. " He who wants to eat bread must

94 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 21.

earn it; out with the kitchen-wench." They took her
pretty clothes away from her, put an old grey bedgown
on her, and gave her wooden shoes. " Just look at tbe
proud princess, how decked out she is ! " they cried, and
laughed, and led her into the kitchen. There she had to
do hard work from morning till night, get up before day-
break, carry water, light fires, cook and wash. Besides
this, the sisters did her every imaginable injury — they
mocked her and emptied her peas and lentils into the
ashes, so that she was forced to sit and pick them out
again. In the evening when she had worked till she was
weary she had no bed to go to, but had to sleep by the
fireside in the ashes. And as on that account she always
looked dusty and dirty, they called her Cinderella. It
happened that the father Avas once going to the fair, and
he asked his two step-daughters what he should bring
back for them. "Beautiful dresses," said one, "Pearls
and jewels," said the second. " And thou, Cinderella,"
said he, " wdiat wilt thou have ? " " Father, break off for
me the first branch which knocks against your hat on
your way home." So he bought bea^^tiful dresses, pearls
and jewels for his two step -daughters, and on his way
home, as he was riding through a green thicket, a hazel
twig brushed against him and knocked off his hat. Then
he broke off the branch and took it with him. When he
reached home he gave his step-daughters the things
which they had wished for, and to Cinderella he gave the
branch from the hazel-bush. Cinderella thanked him,
went to her mother's grave and planted the branch on it,
and wept so much that the tears fell down on it and
watered it. It grew, however, and became a handsome
tree. Thrice a day Cinderella went and sat beneath it,
and wept and prayed, and a little white bird always came
on the tree, and if Cinderella expressed a wish, the bird
threw down to her what she had wished for.

It happened, however, that the King appointed a festival
which was to last three days, and to which all the
beautiful young girls in the country were invited, in order
that his son might choose himself a biide. When the
two step-sisters heard that they too were to appear among
the number, they were delighted, called Cinderella and

Tale 21.] CINDERELLA. 95 ^

said, " Comb our hair for us, brush our shoes and fasten
our buckles, for we are going to the festival at the King's
palace." Cinderella obeyed, but wejDt, because she too
would have liked to go with them to the dance, and
begged her stej) -mother to allow her to do so. " Thou go,
Cinderella ! " said she ; " Thou art dusty and dirty, and
wouldst go to the festival ? Thou hast no clothes and
shoes, and yet wouldst dance ! " As, however, Cinderella
went on asking, the step-mother at last said, "I have
emptied a dish of lentils into the ashes for thee, if thou
hast picked them out again in two hours, thou shalt go
with us." The maiden went through the back-door into
the garden, and called, " You tame pigeons, you turtle-
doves, and all you birds beneath the sky, come and help
me to pick

" Tlie good into the pot, ,

The bad into the crop." '

Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window,
and afterwards the turtle-doves, and at last all the birds
beneath the sky, came whirring and crowding in, and
alighted amongst the ashes. And the pigeons nodded -
with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and^
the rest began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered^j
all the good grains into the dish. Hardly had one hourj^j
passed before they had finished, and all flew out again. Thei^g
the girl took the dish to her step-mother, and was glad,g
and believed that now she would be allowed to go with x
them to the festival. But the step-mother said, " No,
Cinderella, thou hast no clothes and thou canst not dance ;
thou wouldst only be laughed at." And as Cinderella
wept at this, the step-mother said, " If thou canst pick two
dishes of lentils out of the ashes for me in one hour, thou
shalt go with us." And she thought to herself, " That
she most certainly cannot do." When the step-mother had \
emptied the two dishes of lentils amongst the ashes, the It
maiden w^ent through the back-door into the garden and
cried, " You tame pigeons, you turtle-doves, and all you b.
birds under heaven, come and help me to pick

•' The good into the pot,
The bad into the crop."

96 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 21.

Then two white pigeons came in by the kitchen-window,
and afterwards the turtle-doves, and at length all the
birds beneath the sky, came whirring and crowding in,
and alighted amongst the ashes. And the doves nodded
with their heads and began pick, pick, pick, pick, and the
others began also pick, pick, pick, pick, and gathered all
the good seeds into the dishes, and before half an hour was
over they had already finished, and all flew out again.
Then the maiden carried the dishes to the step-mother and
was delighted, and believed that she might now go with
them to the festival. But the step-mother said, " All this
will not help thee ; thou goest not with us, for thou hast
no clothes and canst not dance ; we should be ashamed of
thee ! " On this she turned her back on Cinderella, and
hurried away with her two proud daughters.

As no one was now at home, Cinderella went to her
mother's grave beneath the hazel-tree, and cried,

" Shiver and quiver, little tree,
Silver and gold throw down over me.'*

Then the bird threw a gold and silver dress down to
her, and slippers embroidered with silk and silver. She
put on the dress with all speed, and went to the festival.
Her step-sisters and the step-mother however did not know
her, and thought she must be a foreign princess, for she
looked so beautiful in the golden dress. They never once
thought of Cinderella, and believed that she was sitting at
home in the dirt, picking lentils out of the ashes. The
prince Avent to meet her, took her by the hand and
danced with her. He would dance with no other maiden,
and never left loose of her hand, and if any one else came
to invite her, he said, " This is my partner."

She danced till it was evening, and then she wanted to
go home. But the King's son said, " 1 will go with thee
and bear thee company," for he wished to see to whom
the beautiful maiden belonged. She escaped from him,
however, and sprang into the pigeon-house. The King's
son waited until her father came, and then he told him
that the stranger maiden had leapt into the pigeon-house.
The old man thought, " Can it be Cinderella ? " and they
had to bring him an axe and a pickaxe that he might hew

Tale 21.] CINDERELLA.

the pigeon-house to pieces, but no one was inside it
when they got home Cinderella lay in ber dirty
among the ashes, and a dim little oil-lamp was b
on the mantle-piece, for Cinderella had jumped q
down from the back of the pigeon-house and had
the little hazel-tree, and there she had taken o
beautiful clothes and laid them on the grave, and tl
had taken them away again, and then she had ]
herself in the kitchen amongst the ashes in her
gown.

Next day when the festival began afresh, and
parents and the step-sisters had gone once more, Cindt
went to the hazel-tree and said —

** Shiver and quiver, my little tree,
feiiver and gold throw down over me."

Then the bird threw down a much more beautiful
than on the preceding day. And when Cind
appeared at the festival in this dress, every om
astonished at her beauty. The King's son had m
until she came, and instantly took her by the hf*'nr
danced with no one but her. When others (
invited her, he said, " She is my partner." Whe
came she wished to leave, and the King's so)
her and wanted to see into which house
But she sprang away from him, and into
behind the bouse. Therein stood a beautiful
which hung the most magnificent pears. Sht^ v.
so nimbly between the branches like a squirrel
King's son did not know where she was gone. I
until her father came, and said to him, " The
maiden has escaped from me, and I believe
climbed u-p the pear-tree." The father thought
be Cinderella ? " and had an axe brought and cu
down, but no one was on it. And when they go
kitchen, Cinderella lay there amongst the ashes,
for she had jumped down on the other side of the i
taken the beautiful dress s to the bird on the littk
tree, and put on ber grey gown.

On the third day, when the parents and sisters hav

VOL. I. fl

GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 21.

Cinderella once more went to her mother's grave
d to the little tree —

*'S]iiver and quiver, my little tree,
Silver and gold throw down over me."

[ now the bird threw down to her a dress which was
splendid and magnificent than any she had yet had,
he slippers were golden. And when she went to
;stival in the dress, no one knew how to speak for
ishment. The King's son danced with her only, and
y one invited her to dance, he said, " She is my
ler."

hen evening came, Cinderella wished to leave, and

'ing's son was anxious to go with her, but she escaped

him so quickly that he could not follow her. Tiie

s son had, however, used a stratagem, and had caused

i^hole staircase to be smeared with pitch, and there,

she ran down, had the maiden's left slipper remained

ng. The King's son picked it up, and it was small

ainty, and all golden. Next morning, he went with

he father, and said to him, " No one shall be, my wife

'■hose foot this golden slipper fits." Then were

'sters,glad, for they had pretty feet. The eldest

the shoe into her room and wanted to try it on,

)ther stood by. But she could not get her big

and the shoe was too small for her. Then her

'3 her a knife and said, " Cut the toe off; when

een thou wilt have no more need to go on

he maiden cut the toe off, forced the foot into the

llowed the pain, and went out to the King's son.

;ook her on his horse as his bride and rode away

: They were, ho v\ ever, obliged to pass the grave,

J, on the hazel-tree, sat the two pigeons and

"Turn and peep, turn and peep,
' There's blood within the shoe,

The shoe it is too small for her,
The true bride waits for you."

e looked at her foot and saw how the blood was

ng from it. He turned his horse round and took

-se bride home again, and said she was not the true

Tale 21.] CINDERELLA. 99

one, and that the other sister was to put the shoe on.
Then this one went into her chamber and got hei; toes
safely into the shoe, but her heel was too large. So
her mother gaA'^e her a knife and said, " Cut a bit off thy
heel ; when thou art Queen thou wilt have no more need to
go on foot." The maiden cut a bit off her heel, forced her
foot into the shoe, swallowed the pain, and went out to the
King's son. He took her on his horse as his bride, and
rode away with her, but when they passed by the hazel-
tree, two little pigeons sat on it and cried,

" Turn and peep, turn and peep,
Tliere's blood within the shoe.
The shoe it is too small for her,
The true bride waits for you."

He looked down at her foot and saw how the blood was
running out of her shoe, and how it had stained her white
stocking. Then he turned his horse and took the false
bride home again. " This also is not the right one," said
he, " have you no other daughter ? " " No," said the man,
" There is still a little stunted kitchen-wench which my late
wife left behind her, but she cannot possibly be the bride."
I'he King's son said he was to send her up to him ; but
the mother answered, " Oh no, she is much too dirty, she
cannot show herself!" He absolutely insisted on it, and
Cinderella had to be called. She first washed her hands
and face clean, and then went and bowed down before
the King's son, who gave her the golden shoe. Then she
seated herself on a stool, drew her foot out of the heavy
wooden shoe, and put it into the slipper, which fitted like
a glove. And when she rose up and the King's son looked
at her face he recognized the beautiful maiden who had
danced with him and cried, " That is the true bride ! "
The step-mother and the two sisters were terrified and
became pale with rage ; he, however, took Cinderella on
his horse and rode away with her. As they passed by the
hazel-tree, the two white doves cried,

" Turn and peep, turn and peep,
No blood is in the shoe,
Tlie shoe is not too small for her,
The true bride rides with you,"

and when they had cried that, the two came flj^ing down

H 2

100 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 22.

and placed themselves on Cinderella's shoulders, one on
the right, the other on the left, and remained sitting
there.

When the wedding with the King's son had to be
celebrated, the two false sisters came and wanted to get
into favour with Cinderella and share her good fortune.
When the betrothed couple went to church, the elder was
at the right side and the younger at the left, and the
pigeons pecked out one eye of each of them. After-
wards as they came back, the elder was at the left, and the
younger at the right, and then the pigeons pecked out the
other eye of each. And thus, for their wickedness and
falsehood, they were punished with blindness as long as
they lived.

22.— THE EIDDLE.

There was once a Kins-'s son who was seized with a desire
to travel about the world, and took no one with him but
a faithful servant. One day he came to a great forest,
and when darkness overtook him he could find no shelter,
and knew not where to pass the night. Then he saw a
girl who was going towards a small house, and when he
came nearer, he saw that the maiden was young and
beautiful. He spoke to her, and said, " Dear child, can I
and my servant find shelter for the night in the little
house?" " Oh, yes," said the girl, in a sad voice, "that
you certainly can, but I do not advise you to venture it.
Do not go in." " Why not ?" asked the King's son. The
maiden sighed and said, " My step-mother practises wicked
arts ; she is ill-disposed to strangers." Then he saw very
well that he had come to the house of a witch, but as it
was dark, and he could not go farther, and also was not
afraid, he entered. The old woman was sitting in an arm-
chair by the fire, and looked at the stranger with her red
eyes. *' Good evening," growled she, and pretended to be
quite friendly. " Take a seat and rest yourselves." She
blew up the fire on which she was cooking something
in a small pot. The daughter warned the two to be
prudent, to eat nothing, and drink nothing, for the old

Tale 22.] THE RIDDLE. 101

woman brewed evil drinks. They slept quietly until
early morning. When they were making ready for their
departure, and the King's son was already seated on his
horse, the old woman said, " Stop a moment, I will first
hand you a parting draught." Whilst she fetched it, the
King's son rode away, and the servant who had to buckle
his saddle tight, was the only one there when the wicked
witch came with the drink. " Take that to thy master,"
said she; but at that instant the glass broke and the
poison spirted on the horse, and it was so strong that the
animal immediately fell down dead. The servant ran
after his master and told him what had happened, but
would not leave his saddle behind him, and ran back to
fetch it. When, however, he came to the dead horse, a
raven was already sitting on it devouring it. " Who
knows whether we shall find anything better to-day ? "
said the servant ; so he killed the raven, and took it with
him. And now they journeyed onwards into the forest
the whole day, but could not get out of it. By nightfall
the}'^ found an inn and entered it. The servant gave the
raven to the innkeeper to make ready for supper. They
had, however, stumbled on a den of murderers, and during
the darkness twelve of these came, intending to kill the
strangers and rob them. Before they set about this work,
however, they sat down to supper, and the innkeeper and
the witch sat down with them, and together they ate a
dish of soup in which was cut up the flesh of the raven.
Hardly, however, had they swallowed a couple of mouth-
fuls, before they all fell down dead, for the raven had
communicated to them the poison from the horse-flesh.
There was now no one else left in the house but the
innkeeper's daughter, who was honest, and had taken no
part in their godless deeds. She opened all doors to the
stranger and showed him the heaped-up treasures. But
the King's son said she might keep everything, he would
have none of it, and rode onwards with his servant.

After they had travelled about for a long time, they
came to a town in which was a beautiful but proud
princess, who had caused it to be proclaimed that who-
soever should set her a riddle which she could not guess,
that man should be her husband ; but if she guessed it, his

102 Grimm's household tales. [t ale 22.

head must be cut off. Slie had three days to guess it in,
but was so clever that she always found the answer to
the riddle given lier, before the appointed time. Nine'
suitors had already perished in this manner, when the
King's son arrived, and, blinded by her great beauty, was
willing to stake his life for it. Then he w^ent to her and
laid his riddle before her. " What is this ? " said he, " One
slew none, and yet slew twelve." IShe did not know
what that w^as, she thought and thought, but she could
not find out, she opened her riddle-books, but it was not
in them — in short, her wisdom was at an end. As she_ did
not know how to help herself, she ordered her maid to
creep into the lord's sleeping-chamber, and listen to his
dreams, and thought that he would perhaps speak in his
sleep and discover the riddle. But the clever servant had
placed himself in the bed instead of his master, and when
the maid came there, he tore off from her the mantle in
which she had wrapped herself, and chased her out with
rods. The second night the King's daughter sent her
maid-in-waiting, who was to see if she could succeed
better in listening, but the servant took her mantle also
away from her, and hunted her out with rods. Now the
master believed himself safe for the third night, and lay
down in his own bed. Then came the princess heiself,
and she had put on a misty-grey mantle, and she seated
herself near him. And when she thought that he was
asleep and dreaming, she spoke to him, and hoped that he
would answer in his sleep, as many do, but he was awake,
and understood and heard everything quite well. Then
she asked, " One slew none, what is that ? " He replied,
" A raven, which ate of a dead and poisoned horse, and
died of it." She inquired further, " And yet slew twelve,
what is that ? " He answered, " That means twelve mur-
derers, who ate the raven and died of it."

When she knew the answer to the riddle she wanted to
steal away, but he held her mantle so fast that she was
forced to leave it behind her. Next morning, the King's
daughter announced that she had guessed the riddle, and
sent for the twelve judges and expounded it before them.
But the youth begged for a hearing, and said, " She stole
into ray room in the night and questioned me, otherwise

Tale 23.] THE MOUSE, THE BIRD, AND THE SAUSAGE. 103

she could not have discovered it." The judges said,
" Bring us a proof of this." Then were the three mantles
brought thither by the servant, and when the judges saw
the misty-grey one which the King's daughter usually
wore, they said, " Let the mantle be embroidered with
gold and silver, and then it will be your wedding-
mantle."

23.— THE MOUSE, THE BIRD, AND
THE SAUSAGE.

Once on a time a mouse, a bird,, and a sausage became
companions, kept house together, lived well and happily
with each other, and wonderfully increased their pos-
sessions. The bird's work was to fly every day into the
forest and bring back wood. The mouse had to carry
water, light the fire, and lay the table, but the sausage
had to cook.

He who is too well off is always longing for something
new. One day, therefore, the bird met with another bird,
on the way, to whom it related its excellent circum-
stances and boasted of them. The other bird, however,
called it a poor simpleton for its hard work, but said that
the two at home had good times. For when the mouse
had made her fire and carried her water, she went into
her little room to rest until they called her to lay the
cloth. The sausage stayed by the pot, saw that the food
was cooking well, and, when it was nearly time for dinner,
it rolled itself once or twice through the broth or vege-
tables and then they were buttered, salted, and ready.
When the bird came home and laid his burden down, they
sat down to dinner, and after they had had their meal,
they slept their till till next morning, and that was a
splendid life.

Next day the bird, prompted by the other bird, would
go no more into the wood, saying that he had been
servant long enough, and had been made a fool of by
them, and that they must change about for once, and try
to arrange it in another way. And, though the mouse and
the sausage also begged most earnestly, the bird would

104 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 24.

have his way, and said it must be tried. They cast lots
about it, and the lot fell on the sausage who was to carry
wood, the mouse became cook, and the bird was to fetch
water.

What happened ? The little sausage went out towards
the wood, the little bird lighted the fire, the mouse stayed
by the pot and waited alone until little sausage came home
and brought w^ood for next day. But the little sausage
stayed so long on the road that they both feared something
was amiss, and the bird flew out a little way in the air to
meet it. Not far off, however, it met a dog on the road who
had fallen on the poor sausage as lawful booty, and had
seized and swallov^ed it. The bird charged the dog with
an act of barefaced robbery, but it was in vain to speak,
fur the dog said he had found forged letters on the sausage,
on which account its life was forfeited to him.

The bird sadly took up the wood, flew home, and
related what he had seen and heard. They were much
troubled, but agreed to do their best and remain together.
The bird therefore laid the cloth, and the mouse made
ready the food, and wanted to dress it, and to get into the
pot as the sausage used to do, and roll and creep amongst
the vegetables to mix them ; but before she got into the
midst of them she was stopped, and lost her skin and hair
and life in the attempt.

When the bird came to carry up the dinner, no cook
was there. In its distress the bird threw the wood here
and there, called and searched, but no cook was to be
found ! Owing to his carelessness the wood caught fire, so
a conflagration ensued, the bird hastened to fetch water,
and then the bucket dropped from his claws into the well,
and he fell down with it, and could not recover himself,
but had to drown there.

24.— MOTHER HOLLE.

There was once a widow who had two daughters — one of
whom was pretty and industrious, whilst the other was
ugly and idle. But she was much fonder of the ugly and

Tale 24.] MOTHER HOLLE. 105

idle one, because she was her own daughter; and the
other, who was a step-daughter, was obliged to do all the
work, and be the Cinderella of the house. Every day
the poor girl had to sit by a well, in the highway, and
spin and spin till her fingers bled.

Now it happened that one day the shuttle was marked
with her blood, so she dipped it in the well, to wash the
mark off ; but it dropped out of her hand and fell to the
bottom. She began to weep, and ran to her step-mother
and told her of the mishap. But she scolded her sharply,
and was so merciless as to say, " Since you have let the
shuttle fall in, you must fetch it out again."

So the girl went back to the well, and did not know
what to do ; and in the sorrow of her heart she jumped
into the well to get the shuttle. She lost her senses ; and
when she awoke and came to herself again, she was in a
lovely meadow where the sun was shining and many
thousands of flowers were growing. Along this meadow
she went, and at last came to a baker's oven full of bread,
and the bread cried out, " Oh, take me out ! take me out !
or I shall burn ; I have been baked a long time ! " So
she went up to it, and took out all the loaves one after
another with the bread-shovel. After that she went on
till she came to a tree covered with apples, which called
out to her, " Oh, shake me ! shake me ! we apples are all
ripe ! " So she shook the tree till the apples fell like
rain, and went on shaking till they were all down, and
when she had gathered them into a heap, she went on her
way.

At last she came to a little house, out of which an old
woman peeped ; but she had such large teeth that the girl
was frightened, and was about to run away.

But the old woman called out to her, " What are you
afraid of, dear child ? Stay with me ; if you will do all
the work in the house properly, you shall be the better
for it. Only you must take care to make my bed well,
and to shake it thoroughly till the feathers fly — for then
there is snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle." *

As the old woman spoke so kindly to her, the girl took

* Thus in Hesse, when it snows, they say, " Mother Holle is making
her bed."

106 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 24.

courage and agreed to enter her service. She attended
to everything to the satisfaction of her mistress, and always
shook her bed so vigorously that the feathers flew about
like snow-flakes. So she had a pleasant life with her;
never an angry word; and boiled or roast meat every
day.

She stayed some time with Mother Holle, and then she
became sad. At first she did not know what was the
matter with her, but found at length that it was home-
sickness : although she was many thousand times better
off here than at home, still she had a longing to be there.
At last she said to the old woman, " I have a longing for
home ; and however well off I am down here, I cannot
stay any longer ; I must go up again to my own people."
Mother Holle said, " I am pleased that you long for your
home again, and as you have served me so truly, I myself
will take you up again." Thereupon she took her by
the hand, and led her to a large door. The door was
opened, and just as the maiden was standing beneath the
doorway, a heavy shower of golden rain fell, and all the
gold remained sticking to her, so that she was completely
covered over with it.

" You shall have that because you are so industrious,"
said Mother Holle ; and at the same time she gave her back
the shuttle which she had let fall into the well. There-
upon the door closed, and the maiden found herself up
above upon the earth, not far from her mother's house.

And as she went into the yard the cock was standing
by the well-side, and cried —

•' Cock-a-doodle-doo !
Your golden girl's come back to you ! "

So she went in to her mother, and as she arrived thus
covered with gold, she was well received, both by her and
her sister.

The girl told all that had happened to her ; and as soon
as the mother heard how she had come by so much wealth,
she was very anxious to obtain the same good luck for
the ugly and lazy daughter. She had to seat herself by
the well and spin ; and in order that her shuttle might
be stained with blood, she stuck her hand into a thorn

Tale 24.] MOTHER HOLLE. 107

bush and pricked her finger. Then she threw her shuttle
into the well, and jumped in after it.

She came, like the other, to the beautiful mead(jw and
M'-alked along the very same path. When she got to the
oven the bread again cried, *' Oh, take me out! take me
out ! or I shall burn ; I have been baked a long time ! "
But the lazy thing answered, " As if I had any wish to
make myself dirty '? " and on she went. Soon she came to
the apple-tree, which cried, " Oh, shake me ! shake me !
we apples are all ripe ! " But she answered, " I like that !
one of you might fall on my head," and so went on.

When she came to Mother Hollo's house she was not
afraid, for she had already heard of her big teeth, and she
hired herself to her immediately.

The first day she forced herself to work diligently, and
obeyed Mother Holle when she told her to do anything,
for she was thinking of all the gold that she would give
her. But on the second day she began to be lazy, and on
the third day still more so, and then she would not get up
in the morning at all. Neither did she make Mother
Holle's bed as she ought, and did not shake it so as to
make the feathers fly up. Mother Holle was soon tired of
this, and gave her notice to leave. The lazy girl was
willing enough to go, and thought that now the golden
rain would come. Mother Holle led her too to the
great door ; but while she was standing beneath it, in-
stead of the gold a big kettleful of pitch was emptied
over her. " That is the reward of your service," said
Mother Holle, and shut the door.

So the lazy girl went home ; but she was quite covered
with pitch, and the cock by the well-side, as soon as he
saw her, cried out —

" Cock-a-doodle-doo !
Your pitchy girl's come back to you!"

But the pitch stuck fast to her, and could not be got off
as long as she lived.

108 GEIMM'S household tales. [Tale 25.

25.— THE SEVENF EAYENS.

There was once a man who had seven sons, and still he
had no daughter, however much he wished for one. At
length his wife again gave him hope of a child, and when
it came into the world it was a girl. The joy was great,
but the child was sickly and small, and had to be pri-
vately baptized on account of its weakness. The father
sent one of the bojs in haste to the spring to fetch water
for the baptism. The other six went with him, and as
each of them wanted to be first to fill it, the jug fell into
the well. There they stood and did not know what to
do, and none of them dared to go home. As they still
did not return, the father grew impatient, and said,
" They have certainly forgotten it for some game, the
wicked boys ! " He became afraid that the girl would
have to die without being baptized, and in his anger
cried, " I wish the boys were all turned into ravens."
Hardly was the word spoken before he heard a whirring
of wings over his head in the air, looked up and saw seven
coal-black ravens flying away. The parents could not
recall the curse, and however sad they were at the loss
of their seven sons, they still to some extent comforted
themselves with their dear little daughter, who soon grew
strong and every day became more beautiful. For a long-
time she did not know that she had had brothers, for
her parents were careful not to mention them before her,
but one day she accidentally heard some people say-
ing of herself, " that the girl was certainly beautiful,
but that in reality she was to blame for the misfor-
tune which had befallen her seven brothers." Then she
was much troubled, and went to her father and mother and
asked if it was true that she had had brothers, and what
had become of them ? 'Jlie parents now dared keep the
secret no longer, but said that what had befallen her
brothers was the will of Heaven, and that her birth had
only been the innocent cause. But the maiden laid it to
heart daily, and thought she must deliver her brotheis.
IShe had no rest or peace until she set out secretly, and
went forth into the wide world to trace out her brothers

Tale 25.] THE SEVEN RAVENS. 109

and set them free, let it cost what it might. She took
nothing with her but a little ring belonging to her parents
as a keepsake, a loaf of bread against hunger, a little
pitcher of water against thirst, and a little chair as a
provision against weariness.

And now she went continually onwards, far, far, to the
very end of the world. Then she came to the sun, but it was
too hot and terrible, and devoured little children. Hastily
she ran away, and ran to the moon, but it was far too cold,
and also awful and malicious, and when it saw the child,
it said, " I smell, I smell the flesh of men." On this she
ran swiftly away, and came to the stars, which were kind
and good to her, and each of them sat on its own parti-
cular little chair. But the morning star arose, and gave
her the drumstick of a chicken, and said, " If thou hast not
that drumstick thou canst not open the Glass mountain,
and in the Glass mountain are thy brothers."

The maiden took the drumstick, wrapped it carefully in a
cloth, and went onwards again until she came to the Glass
mountain. The door was shut, and she thought she would
take out the drumstick ; but when she undid the cloth, it
was empty, and she had lost the good star's present. "V\ hat
was she now to do ? She wished to rescue her brothers, and
had no key to the Glass mountain. The good sister took
a knife, cut off one of her little fingers, put it in the door,
and succeeded in opening it. When she had gone inside,
a little dwarf came to meet her, who said, " My child,
what are you looking for '.■' " " I am looking for my
brothers, the seven ravens," she replied. The dwarf said,
" The lord ravens are not at home, but if you will wait
here until they come, step in." Thereupon the little
dwarf carried the ravens' dinner in, on seven little plates,
and in seven little glasses, and the little sister ate a morsel
from each plate, and from each little glass she took a sip,
but in the last little glass she dropped the ring which she
had brought away with her.

Suddenly she heard a whirring of wings and a rushing
through the air, and then the little dwarf said, " Now the
lord ravens are flying home." Then they came, and
wanted to eat and drink, and looked for their little plates
and glasses. Then said one after the other, " Who has

110 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 26.

eaten sometliing from my plate ? Who has drunk out of
my little glass? It was a human mouth." And when the
seventh came to the bottom of the glass, the ring rolled
against his mouth. Then he looked at it, and saw that it
was a ring belonging to his father and mother, and said,
" God grant that our sister may be here, and then we shall
be free." When the maiden, who was standing behind the
door watching, heard that wish, she came forth, and on this
all the ravens were restored to their human form again.
And they embraced and kissed each other, and went
joyfully home.

26.— LITTLE EED-CAP.*

Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was
loved by every one who looked at her, but most of all by
her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would
not have given to the child. Once she gave her a little
cap of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would
never wear anything else ; so she was always called
' Little Eed-Cap.'

One day her mother said to her, " Come, Little Eed-
Cap, here is a piece of cake and a bottle of wine ; take
them to your grandmother, she is ill and weak, and they
will do her good. Set out before it gets hot, and when
you are going, walk nicely and quietly and do not run off
the path, or you may fall and break the bottle, and then
your grandmother will get nothing ; and when you go
into her room, don't forget to say, ' Good-morning,' and
don't peep into every corner before you do it."

"I will take great care," said Little Eed-Cap to her
mother, and gave her hand on it.

The grandmother lived out in the wood, half a league

* The English version of this story, the well-known Little Red-
Riding-Hood, is probably derived more immediately from the French,
'Le Petit Chaperon Rouge,' as given by Perrault, where it ends with
the death of the girl.

Tale 2G.] LITTLE EED-CAP. Hi

from the village, and just as Little Eed-Cap entered the
wood, a wolf met her. Eed-Cap did not know what a
wicked creature he was, and was not at all afraid of him.

*' Good-day, Little Eed-Cap," said he.

" Thank you kindly, M^olf "

*' Whither away so early, Little Eed-Cap ? "

" To my grandmother's."

" What have you got in your apron ? "
^ " Cake and wine ; yesterday was baking-day, so poor
sick grandmother is to have something good, to make her
stronger."

" Where does your grandmother live, Little Eed-Cap ? "

" A good quarter of a league farther on in the wood ;
her house stands under the three large oak-trees, the
nut-trees are just below ; you surely must know it "
replied Little Eed-Cap. '

The wolf thought to himself, " What a tender young
creature ! what a nice plump mouthful— she will be better
to eat than the old woman. I must act craftily, so as to
catch both." So he walked for a short time by the side
of Little Eed-Cap, and then he said, " See, Little Eed-
Cap, how pretty the flowers are about here— why do you
not look round? I believe, too, that you do not hear
how sweetly the little birds are singing ; you walk gravely
along as if you were going to school, while everything
else out here in the wood is merry."

Little Eed-Cap raised her eyes, and when she saw the
sunbeams dancing here and there through the trees, and
pretty flowers growing everywhere, she thought, " Suppose
I take grandmother a fresh nosegay ; that would please
her too. It is so early in the day that I shall still o-et
there m good time ; " and so she ran from the path into
the wood to look for flowers. And whenever she had
picked one, she fancied that she saw a still prettier one
farther on, and ran after it, and so got deeper and deeper
into the wood.

Jlean while the wolf ran straight to the grandmother s
house and knocked at the door.

" Who is there ? "

" Little Eed-Cap," replied the wolf. " She is brinmncr
cake and wme ; open the door." ^

112 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 26.

" Lift the latch," called out the grandmother, " I am too
weak, and cannot get up."

The wolf lifted the latch, the door flew open, and with-
out saying a word he went straight to the grandmother's
bed, and devoured her. Then he put on her clothes,
dressed himself in her cap, laid himself in bed and drew
the curtains.

Little Rfcd-Cap, however, had been running about pick-
ing flowers, and when she had gathered so many that she
could carry no more, she remembered her grandmother,
and set out on the way to her.

She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing
open, and when she went into the room, she had such a
strange feeling that she said to herself, " Oh dear ! how
uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like being with
grandmother so much." She called out, " Good morning,"
but received no answer ; so she went to the bed and drew
back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with her
cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.

" Oh ! grandmother," she said, " what big ears you
have ! "

" The better to hear you with, my child," was the reply.

" But, grandmother, what big eyes you have ! " she
said.

" The better to see you with, my dear."

*' But, grandmother, what lar^e hands you have ! "

" The better to hug you with."

" Oh ! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you
have ! "

" The better to eat you with ! "

And scarcely had the wolf said this, than with one
bound he was out of bed and swallowed up Eed-Cap.

When the wolf had appeased his appetite, he lay down
again in the bed, fell asleep and began to snore very loud.
The huntsman was just passing the house, and thought to
himself, " How the old woman is snoring ! I must just see
if she wants anything." So he went into the room, and
when he came to the bed, he saw that the wolf was lying
in it. " Do I find thee here, thou old sinner ! " said he.
" I have long S' aight thee ! " Then just as he was going
to fire at him, it occurred to him that the wolf might have

Tale 26."} LITTLE EED-CAP. 113

devoured the grandmother, and that she might still be
saved, so he did not fire, but took a pair of scissors, and
began to cut open the stomach of the sleeping wolf. When
he had made two snips, he saw the little Eed-Cap shining,
and then he made two snips more, and the little girl sprang
out, crying, " Ah, how frightened I have been ! How dark
it was inside the wolf;" and after that the aged grand-
mother came out alive also, but scarcely able to breathe.
Eed-Cap, however, quickly fetched great stones with which
they filled the wolf's body, and when he awoke, he wanted
to run away, but the stones were so heavy that he fell
down at once, and fell dead.

Then all three were delighted. The huntsman drew off
the wolf's skin and went home with it ; the grandmother
ate the cake and drank the wine which Eed-Cap had
brought, and revived, but Eed-Cap thought to herself, " As
long as I live, I will never by myself leave the path, to run
into the wood, when my mother has forbidden me to do so."

It is also related that once when Eed-Cap was again
taking cakes to the old grandmother, another wolf spoke
to her, and tried to entice her from the path. Eed-Cap
was, however, on her guard, and went straight forward on
her way, and told her grandmother that she had met the
wolf, and that he had said " good-morning " to her, but
with such a wicked look in his eyes, that if they had not
been on the public road she was certain he would have eaten
her up. " Well," said the grandmother, " we will shut the
door, that he may not come in." Soon afterwards the
wolf knocked, and cried, " Open the door, grandmother, I am
little Eed-Cap, and am fetching you some cakes." But
they did not speak, or open the door, so the grey-beard
stole twice or thrice round the house, and at last jumped
on the roof, intending to wait until Eed-Cap went home in
the evening, and then to steal after her and devour her in
the darkness. But the grandmother saw what was in his
thoughts. In front of the house was a great stone trough,
so she said to the child, " Take the pail, Eed-Cap ; I made
some sausages yesterday, so carry the water in which I
boiled them to the trough." Eed-Cap carried until the
great trough was quite full. Then the smell of the

VOL. I. I

114 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 27.

sausages reached the wolf, and he sniffed and peeped down,
and at last stretched out his neck so far that he could no
longer keep his footing and began to slip, and slipped
down from the roof straight into the great trough, and
was drowned. But Eed-Cap went joyously home, and
never did anything to harm any one.

27.— THE BEEMEN TOWN-MUSICIANS.

A CERTAIN man had a donkey, which had carried the
corn-sacks to the mill indefatigably for many a long year ;
but his strength was going, and he was growing more and
more unfit for work. Then his master began to consider
how he might best save his keep ; but the donkey, seeing
that no good wind was blowing, ran away and set out
on the road to Bremen. " There," he thought, " I can
surely be town-musician." When he had walked some
distance, he found a hound lying on the road, gasping
like one who had run till he was tired. " W^hat are you
gasping so for, you big fellow ? " asked the donkey.

" Ah," replied the hound, " as I am old, and daily grow
weaker, and no longer can hunt, my master wanted to
kill me, so I took to flight ; but now how am I to earn
my bread ? "

" I tell you what," said the donkey, " I am going to
Bremen, and shall be town-musician there ; go with me
and engage yourself also as a musician. I will play the
lute, and you shall beat the kettledrum."

The hound agreed, and on they went.

Before long they came to a cat, sitting on the path,
with a face like three rainy days ! " Now then, old
shaver, what has gone askew with you ? " asked the
donkey.

" Who can be merry when his neck is in danger ? "
answered the cat. " Because I am now getting old, and
my teeth are worn to stumps, and I prefer to sit by the
fire and spin, rather than hunt about after mice, my

Tale 27.] THE BREMEN TOWN-MUSICIANS. 115

mistress wanted to drown me, so I ran away. But now
good advice is scarce. Where am I to go ? "

" Go with us to Bremen. You understand night-music,
so you can be a town-musician."

The cat thought well of it, and went with them. After
this the three fugitives came to a farm-yard, where the
cock was sitting upon the gate, crowing with all his might.
"Your crow goes through and through one," said the
donkey. " AVhat is the matter ? "

^' I have been foretelling fine weather, because it is the
day on which Our Lady washes the Christ-child's little
shirts, and wants to dry them," said the cock ; " but guests
are coming for Sunday, so the housewife has no pity,
and has told the cook that she intends to eat me in the
soup to-morrow, and this evening I am to have my head
cut off. Now I am crowing at full pitch while I can."

" Ah, but red-comb," said the donkey, " you had better
come away with us. We are going to Bremen; you can
find something better than death everywhere : you have a
good voice, and if we make music together it must have
some quality ! "

The cock agreed to this plan, and all four went on
together. _ They could not, however, reach the city of
Bremen in one day, and in the evening they came to a
forest where they meant to pass the night. The donkey
and the hound laid themselves down under a large tree, the
cat and the cock settled themselves in the branches ; but
the cock flew right to the top, where he was most safe.
Before he went to sleep he looked round on all the four
sides, and thought he saw in the distance a little spark
burning ; so he called out to his companions that there
must be a house not far off, for he saw a light. The
donkey said, " If so, we had better get up and go on, for
the shelter here is bad." The hound thought that a few
bones with some meat on would do him good too !

So they made their way to the place where the light
was, and soon saw it shine brighter and grow larger, until
they came to a well-lighted robber's house. The donkey,
as the biggest, went to the window and looked in.

i^i^'^v^H* ^"^ ^°^ ^®®' ^^^ grey-horse?" asked the cock.
VViiat do I see?" answered the donkey ; " a table covered

1 2

116 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 27.

with good things to eat and drink, and robbers sitting at
it enjoying themselves." " That wonld be the sort ^ of
thing for ns," said the cock. " Yes, yes ; ah, how I wish
we were there ! " said the donkey.

Then the animals took counsel together how they
should manage to drive away the robbers, and at last they
thought of a plan. The donkey was to place himself with
his fore-feet upon the window-ledge, the hound was to
jump on the donkey's back, the cat was to climb upon the
dog, and lastly the cock was to fly up and perch upon the
head of the cat.

When this was done, at a given signal, they began to
perform their music together: the donkey brayed, the
hound barked, the cat mewed, and the cock crowed ; then
they burst through the window into the room, so that
the glass clattered! At this horrible din, the robbers
sprang up, thinking no otherwise than that a ghost had
come in, and fled in a great fright out into the forest.
The four companions now sat down at the table, well
content with what was left, and ate as if they were going
to fast for a month.

As soon as the four minstrels had done, they put out
the light, and each sought for himself a sleeping-place
according to his nature and to what suited^ him. The
donkey laid himself down upon some straw in the yard,
the hound behind the door, the cat upon the hearth near
the warm ashes, and the cock perched himself upon a
beam of the roof; and being tired with their long walk,
they soon went to sleep.

When it was past midnight, and the robbers saw from
afar that the light was no longer burning in their house,
and all appeared quiet, the captain said, " We ought rot
to have let ourselves be frightened out of our wits ; " and
ordered one of them to go and examine the house.

The messenger finding all still, went into the kitchen
to light a candle, and, taking the glistening fiery eyes of
the cat for live coals, he held a lucifer-match to them
to light it. But the cat did not understand the joke,
and ^flew in his face, spitting and scratching. He
was dreadfully frightened, and ran to the back-door,
bat the dog, who lay there, sprang up and bit his leg;

Tale 28.] THE SINGING BONE. 117

and as he ran across the yard by the straw-heap, the
donkey gave him a smart kick with its hind foot. The
cock, too, who had' been awakened by the noise, and had
become lively, cried down from the beam, " Cock-a-doodle-
doo ! "

Then the robber ran back as fast as he could to his
captain, and said, " Ah, there is a horrible witch sitting
in the house, who spat on me and scratched my face with
her long claws ; and by the door stands a man with a
knife, who stabbed me in the leg ; and in the yard there
lies a black monster, who beat me with a wooden club ;
and above, upon the roof, sits the judge, who called out,
' Bring the rogue here to me !' so I o;ot away as well as
I could."

After this the robbers did not trust themselves in the
house again ; but it suited the four musicians of Bremen
so well that they did not care to leave it any more. And
the mouth of him who last told this story is still warm.

28.— THE SINGING BONE.

In a certain country there was once great lamentation
over a wild boar that laid waste the farmers' fields, killed
the cattle, and ripped up people's bodies with his tusks.
The King promised a large reward to any one who would
free the land from this plague ; but the beast was so
big and strong that no one dared to go near the forest
in which it lived. At last the King gave notice that
whosoever should capture or kill the wild boar should
have his only daughter to wife.

Now there lived in the country two brothers, sons of a
poor man, who declared themselves willing to undertake
the hazardous enterprise ; the elder, who was crafty and
shrewd, out of pride ; the younger, who was innocent and
simple, from a kind heart. The King said, " In order that
you may be the more sure of finding the beast, you must
go into the forest from opposite sides." So the elder
went in on the west side, and the younger on the east.

118 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 28.

When tlie younger had gone a short way, a little man
stepped up to him. He held in his hand a black spear
and said, " I give you this spear because your heart is
pure and good ; with this you can boldly attack the wild
boar, and it will do you no harm."

He thanked the little man, shouldered the spear, and
went on fearlessly.

Before long he saw the beast, which rushed at him ;
but he held the spear towards it, and in its blind fury it
ran so swiftly against it that its heart was cloven in twain.
Then he took the monster on his back and went homewards
with it to the King.

As he came out at the other side of the wood, there
stood at the entrance a house where people were making
merry with wine and dancing. His elder brother had
gone in here, and thinking that after all the boar would
not run away from him, was going to drink until he felt
brave. But when he saw his young brother coming oiit
of the wood laden with his booty, his envious, evil heart
gave him no peace. He called out to him, " Come in,
dear brother, rest and refresh yourself with a cup of
wine."

The youth, who suspected no evil, went in and told him
about the good little man who had given him the spear
wherewith he had slain the boar.

The elder brother kept him there until the evening, and
then they went away together, and when in the darkness
they came to a bridge over a brook, the elder brother let
the other go first ; and when he was half-way across he
gave him such a blow from behind that he fell down dead.
He buried him beneath the bridge, took the boar, and
carried it to the King, pretending that he had killed it ;
whereupon he obtained the King's daughter in marriage.
And when his younger brother did not comeback he said,
"The boar must have killed him," and every one be-
lieved it.

But as nothing remains hidden from God, so this black
deed also was to come to light.

Years afterwards a shepherd was driving his herd across
the bridge, and saw lying in the sand beneath, a snow-
white little bone. He thought that it would make a good

Tale 29.] THE DEVIL WITH THREE GOLDEN HAIRS. 119

mouth-piece, so he clambered down, picked it up, and cut
out of it a mouth-piece for his horn. But when he blew
through it for the first time, to his great astonishment,
the bone began of its own accord to sing :

*' Ah, friend, thou blowest upon my bone !
Long have I lain beside the water;
My brother slew me for the boar,

And took for his wife the King's young daughter."

" What a wonderful horn ! " said the shepherd; " it sings
by itself; I must take it to my lord the King." And when
he came with it to the King the horn again began to sing
its little song. The King understood it all, and caused the
ground below the bridge to be dug up, and then the whole
skeleton of the murdered man came to light. The wicked
brother could not deny the deed, and was sewn up in a
sack and drowned. But the bones of the murdered man
were laid to rest in a beautiful tomb in the churchyard.

29.— THE DEYIL WITH THE THREE GOLDEN

HAIRS.

There was once a poor woman who gave birth to a little
son ; and as he came into the world with a caul on, it
was predicted that in his fourteenth year he would have
the King's daughter for his wife. It happened that soon
afterwards the King came into the village, and no one
knew that he was the King, and when he asked the people
what news there was, they answered, " A child has just
been born with a caul on ; whatever any one so born
undertakes turns out well. It is prophesied, too, that
in his fourteenth year he will have the King's daughter
for his wife."

The King, who had a bad heart, and was angry about
the prophecy, went to the parents, and, seeming quite
friendly, said, " You poor people, let me have your child,
and I will take care of it." At first they refused, but
when the stranger offered them a large amount of gold^

120 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 29.

for it, and tliey thoiiglit, "It is a luck-child, and every-
thing must turn out well for it," they at last consented,
and gave him the child.

The King put it in a box and rode away with it until
he came to a deep piece of water ; then he threw the box
into it and thought, " I have freed my daughter from
her unlooked-for suitor."

The box, however, did not sink, but floated like a boat,
and not a drop of water made its way into it. And it
floated to within two miles of the King's chief city, where
there was a mill, and it came to a stand-still at the mill-
dam. A miller's boy, who by good luck was standing
there, noticed it and pulled it out with a hook, thinking
that he had found a great treasure, but when he opened
it there lay a pretty boy inside, quite fresh and lively.
He took him to the miller and his wife, and as they
had no children they were glad, and said, " God has given
him to us." They took great care of the foundling, and he
grew up in all goodness.

It happened that once in a storm the King went into
the mill, and he asked the mill-folk if the tall youth
was their son. " No," answered they, " he's a foundling.
Fourteen years ago he floated down to the mill-dam in a
box, and the mill-boy pulled him out of the water. '

Then the King knew that it was none other than the
luck-child which he had thrown into the water, and he
said, " My good people, could not the youth take a letter
to the Queen; I will give him two gold pieces as a
reward ? " " Just as the King commands," answered they,
and they told the boy to hold himself in readiness. Then
the King wrote a letter to the Queen, wherein he said,
"As soon as the boy arrives with this letter, let him
be killed and buried, and all must be done before I come
home."

The boy set out with this letter ; but he lost his way,
and in the evening came to a large forest. In the
darkness he saw a small light ; he went towards it and
reached a cottage. When he went in, an old woman
was sitting by the fire quite alone. She started when
she saw the boy, and said, " Whence do you come, and
whither are you going ? " "I come from the mill," he

Tale 29.] THE DEVIL WITH THREE GOLDEN HAIRS. 121

answered, " and wish to go to the Queen, to whom I am.
taking a letter ; but as I have lost my way in the forest I
should like to stay here over night." " You poor boy,"
said the woman, " you have come into a den of thieves,
and when they come home they will kill you." " Let
them come," said the boy, " I am not afraid ; but I am so
tired that I cannot go any farther : " and he stretched
himself upon a bench and fell asleep.

Soon afterwards the robbers came, and angrily asked
what strange boy was lying there ? " Ah," said the old
woman, " it is an innocent child who has lost himself in
the forest, and out of pity I have let him come in; he
has to take a letter to the Queen." The robbers opened
the letter and read it, and in it was written that the boy
as soon as he arrived should be put to death. Then the
hard-hearted robbers felt pity, and their leader tore up
the letter and wrote another, saying, that soon as the
boy came, he should be married at once to the King's
daughter. Then they let him lie quietly on the bench
until the next morning, and when he awoke they gave
him the letter, and showed him the right way.

And the Queen, when she had received the letter and
read it, did as was written in it, and had a splendid
wedding-feast prepared, and the King's daughter was
married to the luck-child; and as the youth was hand-
some and agreeable she lived with him in joy and
contentment.

After some time the King returned to his palace and
saw that the prophecy was fulfilled, and the luck-child
married to his daughter. " How has that come to pass ? "
said he ; "I gave quite another order in my letter."

So the Queen gave him the letter, and said that he
might see for himself what was written in it. The King
read the letter and saw quite well that it had been ex-
changed for the other. He asked the youth what had
become of the letter entrusted to him, and why he had
brought another instead of it. "I know nothing about
it," answered he ; " it must have been changed in the
night, when I slept in the forest." The King said in a
passion, " You shall not have everything quite so much
your own way; whosoever marries my daughter must

122 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 29.

fetch me from liell three golden hairs from the head of
the devil ; bring me what I want, and you shall keep my
daughter.' In this way the King hoped to be rid of him
for ever. But the luck-child answered, " I will fetch the
golden hairs, I am not afraid of the Devil ; " thereupon
he took leave of them and began his journey.

The road led him to a large town, wdiere the watchman
by the gates asked him what his trade was, and what he
knew. " I know everything," answered the luck-child.
" Then you can do us a favour," said the watchman, " if
you will tell us why our market-fountain, which once
floAved with wine has become dry, and no longer gives
even water ? " " That you shall know," answered he ;
*' only wait until I come back."

Then he went farther and came to another town, ana.
there also the gatekeeper asked him what was his trade,
and what he knew. " I know everything," answered he.
*' Then you can do us a favour, and tell us why a tree
in our town which once bore golden apples now does not
even put forth leaves ? " " You shall know that," answered
he ; " only wait until I come back."

Then he went on and came to a wide river over which
he must go. The ferryman asked him what his trade
was, and what he knoAV. " I know everything," answered
he. " Then you can do me a favour," said the ferryman,
" and tell me why I must always be rowing backwards
and forwards, and am never set free ? " " You shall know
that," answered he ; " only wait until I come back."

When he had crossed the water he found the entrance
to Hell. It was black and sooty within, and the Devil
was not at home, but his grandmother was sitting in a
large arm-chair. " What do you want?" said she to him,
but she did not look so very wicked. " I should like to
have three golden hairs from the devil's head," answered
he, " else I cannot keep my Avife." " That is a good deal
to ask for," said she ; " if the devil comes home and finds
you, it will cost you your life ; but as I pity you, I will
see if I cannot help you."

She changed him into an ant and said, " Creep into
the folds of my dress, you will be safe there." " Yes,"
answered he, " so far, so good ; but there are three

Tale 29.] THE DEVIL WITH THREE GOLDEN HAIRS. 123

things besides that I want to know : why a fountain
which once flowed Avith wine has become dry, and no
longer gives even water ; why a tree which once bore
golden apples does not even put forth leaves ; and why a
ferry-man must always be going backwards and forwards,
and is never set free ? "

" Those are difficult questions," answered she, " but
only be silent and quiet and pay attention to what the
devil ssijs when I pull out the three golden hairs."

As the evening came on the devil returned home. No
sooner had he entered than he noticed that the air was
not pure. " I smell man's flesh," said he ; " all is not
right here." Then he pried into every corner, and
searched, but could not find anything. His grandmother
scolded him. " It has just been swept," said she, " and
everything put in order, and now you are upsetting it
again ; you have always got man's flesh in your nose.
Sit down and eat your supper."

When ho had eaten and drunk he was tired, and laid
his head in his grandmother's lap, and before long he was
fast asleep, snoring and breathing heavily. Then the old
woman took hold of a golden hair, pulled it out, and laid
it down near her. " Oh ! " cried the devil, " what are
you doing ? " "I have had a bad dream," answered the
grandmother, " so I seized hold of your hair." " What
did you dream then ? " said the devil. "I dreamed that
a fountain in a market-place from which wine once
flowed was dried up, and not even water would flow out
of it; what is the cause of it?" "Oh, ho! if they did
but know it," answered the devil ; " there is a toad
sitting under a stone in the well; if they killed it, the
wine would flow again."

He went to sleep again and snored until the windows
shook. Then she pulled the second hair out. " Ha !
what are you doing ? " cried the devil angrily. " Do not
take it ill," said she, " I did it in a dream." " What have
you dreamt this time ? " asked he. " I dreamt that in a
certain kingdom there stood an apple-tree which had once
borne golden apples, but now would not even bear leaves.
What, think you, was the reason?" "Oh! if they did
but know," answered the devil. " A mouse is gnawing

124 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 29.

at the root ; if they killed this they would have golden
apples again, but if it gnaws much longer the tree will
wither altogether. But leave me alone with your dreams :
if you disturb me in my sleep again you will get a box
on the ear."

The grandmother spoke gently to him until he fell
asleep again and snored. Then she took hold of the third
golden hair and pulled it out. The devil jumped up,
roared out, and would have treated her ill, but she
quieted him once more and said, " Who can help bad
dreams? " " What was the dream, then ?" asked he, and
was quite curious. " I dreamt of a ferry-man who com-
plained that he must always ferry from one side to the
other, and was never released. What is the cause of it? "
" Ah ! the fool," answered the devil ; " when any one
comes and wants to go across he must put the oar in his
hand, and the other man will have to ferry and he will
be free." As the grandmother had. plucked out the three
golden hairs, and the three questions were answered, she
let the old serpent alone, and he slept until daybreak.

When the devil had gone out again the old woman took
the ant out of the folds of her dress, and gave the luck-
child his human shape again. " There are the three
golden hairs for you," said she. " What the Devil said
to your three questions, I suppose you heard ? " " Yes,"
answered he, " I heard, and wiJl take care to remember."
*' You have what you want," said she, " and now you can
go your way." He thanked the old woman for helping
him in his need, and left hell well content that every-
thing had turned out so fortunately.

W^hen he came to the ferry-man he was expected to
give the promised answer." " Ferry me across first," said
the luck-child, " and then I will tell you how you can be
set free," and when he had reached the opposite shore he
gave him the devil's advice : " Next time any one comes,
who wants to be ferried over, just put the oar in his
hand."

He went on and came to the town wherein stood the
unfruitful tree, and there too the watchman wanted an
answer. So he told him what he had heard from the
devil : " Kill the mouse which is gnawing at its root, and

Tale 30.] THE LOUSE AND THE FLEA. 125

it will again bear golden apples." Then the watchman
thanked him, and gave him as a reward two asses laden
with gold, which followed him.

At last he came to the town whose well was dry.
He told the watchman what the devil had said : " A
toad is in the well beneath a stone ; you must find it
and kill it, and the well will again give wine in plenty."
The watchman thanked him, and also gave him two
asses laden with gold.

At last the luck-child got home to his wife, who was
heartily glad to see him again, and to hear how well he
had prospered in everything. To the King he took
what he had asked for, the devil's three golden hairs, and
when the King saw the four asses laden with gold he
was quite content, and said, " Now all the conditions are
fulfilled, and you can keep my daughter. But tell me,
dear son-in-law, where did all that gold come from ?
this is tremendous wealth ! " "I was rowed across a
river," answered he, " and got it there ; it lies on the
shore instead of sand." " Can I too fetch some of it ? "
said the King ; and he was quite eager about it. " As
much as you like," answered he. " There is a ferry-man
on the river ; let him ferry you over, and you can fill
your sacks on the other side." The greedy King set out
in all haste, and when he came to the river he beckoned
to the ferry-man to put him across. The ferry-man came
and bade him get in, and w^hen they got to the other
shore he put the oar in his hand and sprang out. But
from this time forth the King had to ferry, as a punish-
ment for his sins. Perhaps he is ferrying still ? If he
is, it is because no one has taken the oar from him.

30.— THE LOUSE AND THE FLEA.

A LOUSE and a flea kept house together and were
brewing beer in an egg-shell. Then the little louse fell
in and burnt herself. On this the little flea began to
scream loudly. Then said the little room-door, " Little

126 GKIMm's household tales. [Tale 30.

flea, why art thou screaming?" "Because the louse has
burnt herself."

Then the little door began to creak. On this a little
broom in the corner said, " Why art thou creaking, little
door ? " " Have I not reason to creak ? "

" The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weeping."

So the little broom began to sweep frantically. Then a
little cart j^assed by and said, " Why art thou sweeping,
little broom ? " " Have I not reason to sweep ? "

"The little louse has burnt herself,
The little flea is weepina:,
The little door is creaking."

So the little cart said, " Then I will run," and began
to run wildly. Then said the ash-heap by which it ran,
" Why art thou running so, little cart?" "Have I not
reason to run ? "

'•The little louse has burnt herself
The little flea is weepiiia:,
The little door is creakin":,
The little broom is sweeping."

The ash-heap said, "Then I will burn furiously," and
began to burn in clear flames. A little tree stood near
the ash- heap and said, " Ash-heap, why art thou burning ? "
" Have I not reason to burn ? "

"The little louse has burnt herself
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking.
The little broom is sweeping,
The little cart is running."

The little tree said, " Then I will shake myself," and
began to shake herself so that all her leaves fell otf ; a girl
who came up with her water-pitcher saw that, and said,
"Little tree, why art thou shaking thyself?" "Have I
not reason to shake myself? "

" The little louse has burnt herselfj
The little flea is weeping,
The little door is creaking.
The little broom is sweeping.
The little cart is running.
The Utile ash-heap is burulng.*

Tale 31.] THE GIRL WITHOUT HANDS. 127

On this the girl said, "Then I will break my little
water-pitcher," and she broke her little water-pitcher.
Then said the little spring from which ran the water,
" Girl, why art thou breaking thy water-jng? " " Have
I not reason to break my water-jug ? "

"The little louse lias burnt herself,

The little flea is weeping,

The little door is creaking",

The little broom is sweeping,
The little cart is running,

The little ash-heap is burning.

The little tree is shal^ing itself."

" Oh, ho ! " said the spring, " then I will begin to flow,"
and began to flow violently. And in the water everything
was drowned, the girl, the little tree, the little ash-heap,
the little cart, the broom, the little door, the little flea,
the little louse, all together.

31.— THE GIRL WITHOUT HANDS.

A CERTAIN miller had little by little fallen into poverty,
and had nothing left but his mill and a large apple-tree
behind it. Once when he had gone into the forest to
fetch wood, an old man stepped up to him whom he had
never seen before, and said, " Why dost thou plague thyself
with cutting wood, I will make thee rich, if thou wilt pro-
mise me what is standing behind thy mill ? " " What can
that be but my apple-tree ? " thought the miller, and said,
" Yes," and gave a written promise to the stranger. He,
however, laughed mockingly and said, " When three years
have passed, I will come and carry away what belongs to
me," and then he went. When the miller got home,
his wife came to meet him and said, " Tell me, miller, from
whence comes this sudden wealth into our house ? All at
once every box and chest was filled ; no one brought it
in, and I know not how it happened." He answered,
" It comes from a stranger who met me in the forest, and
promised me great treasure. I, in return, have promised

128 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 31.

him what stands behind the mill ; we can very well give
him the big apple-tree for it." " Ah, husband," said the
terrified wife, " that must have been the devil ! He did
not mean the apple-tree, but our daughter, who was
standing behind the mill sweeping the yard."

The miller's daughter was a beautiful, pious girl, and
lived through the three years in the fear of God and
without sin. When therefore the time was over, and the
day came when the Evil-one was to fetch her, she washed
herself clean, and made a circle round herself with chalk.
The devil appeared quite early, but he could not come
near to her. Angrily, he said to the miller, " Take all
water away from her, that she may no longer be able to
wash herself, for otherwise I have no power over her."
The miller was afraid, and did so. The next morning the
devil came again, but she had wept on her hands, and
they were quite clean. Again he could not get near her,
and furiously said to the miller, " Cut her hands off, or
else I cannot get the better of her." The miller was
shocked and answered, " How could I cut off my own
child's hands ? " Then the Evil-one threatened him and
said, " If thou dost not do it thou art mine, and I will take
thee thyself." The father became alarmed, and promised
to obey him. So he went to the girl and said, " My child,
if I do not cut off both thine hands, the devil will carry
me away, and in my terror I have promised to do it.
Help me in my need, and forgive me the harm I do
thee." She replied, " Dear father, do with me what you
will, I am your child." Thereupon she laid down both
her hands, and let them be cut off. The devil came for
the third time, but she had wept so long and so much on
the stumps, that after all they were quite clean. Then
he had to give in, and had lost all right over her.

The miller said to her, " I have by means of thee received
such great wealth that I will keep thee most delicately as
long as thou livest." But she replied, " Here I cannot stay,
I will go forth, compassionate people will give me as much
as I require." Thereupon she caused her maimed arms to
be bound to her back, and by sunrise she set out on her
way, and walked the whole day until night fell. Then
she came to a royal garden, and by the shimmering of

Tale 31.] THE GIRL WITHOUT ARMS. 129

the moon she saw that trees covered with beautiful
fruits grew in it, but she could not enter, for there was
much water round about it. And as she had walked the
whole day and not eaten one mouthful, and hunger tor-
mented her, she thought, " Ah, if I were but inside, that I
might eat of the fruit, else must I die of hunger ! " Then
she knelt down, called on God the Lord, and prayed.
And suddenly an angel came towards her, who made a
dam in the water, so that the moat became dry and she
coukl walk through it. And now she went into the
o-arden and the ans-el went with her. She saw a tree
covered with beautiful pears, but they were all counted.
Then she went to them, and to still her hunger, ate one
with her mouth from the tree, but no more. The gardener
was watching ; but as the angel was standing by, he was
afraid and thought the maiden was a spirit, and was silent,
neither did he dare to cry out, or to speak to the spirit.
AVhen she had eaten the pear, she was satisfied, and went
and concealed herself among the bushes. The King to
whom the garden belonged, came down to it next morn-
ing, and counted, and saw that one of the pears was miss-
ing, and asked the gardener what had become of it, as it
was not lying beneath the tree, but was gone. Then
answered the gardener, " Last night, a spirit came in, who
had no hands, and ate off one of the pears with its mouth."
The King said, " How did the spirit get over the water,
and where did it go after it had eaten the pear? " The
gardener answered, " Some one came in a snow-white
garment from heaven who made a dam, and kept back the
water, that the spirit might walk through the moat. And
as it must have been an angel, I was afraid, and asked no
questions, and did not cry out. When the spirit had eaten
the pear, it went back again." The King said, " If it be
as thou sayest, I will watch with thee to-night."

W hen it grew dark the King came into the garden and
brought a priest with him, who was to speak to the spirit.
All three seated themselves beneath the tree and watched.
At midnight the maiden came creejoing out of the thicket,
went to the tree, and again ate one pear off it with her
mouth, and beside her stood the angel in white garments.
Then the priest went out to them and said, " Comest thou

VOL. I. K

130 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 31.

from heaven or from eartli? Art ihou a spirit, or a
human being?" She replied, "I am no spirit, but an
unhappy mortal deserted by all but God." The King
said, " If thou art forsaken by all the world, yet will I
not forsake thee." He took her with him into his royal
palace, and as she was so beautiful and good, he loved her
with all his heart, had silver hands made for her, and
took her to wife.

After a year the King had to take the field, so he com-
mended his young Queen to the care of his mother and
said, " If she is brought to bed take care of her, nurse
her well, and tell me of it at once in a letter." Then she
gave birth to a fine boy. So the old mother made
haste to write and announce the joyful news to him. But
the messenger rested b}^ a brook on the way, and as he
was fatigued by the great distance, he fell asleep. Then
came the Devil, who was always seeking to injure the good
Queen, and exchanged the letter for another, in which
was written that the Queen had brought a monster into
the world. When the King read the letter he was shocked
and much troubled, but he wrote in answer that they
were to take great care of the Queen and nurse her well
until his arrival. The messenger went back with the
letter, but rested at the same place and again fell asleep.
Then came the Devil once more, and put a different letter in
his pocket, in which it was written that they were to put
the Queen and her child to death. The old mother was
terribly shocked when she received the letter, and could
not believe it. She wrote back again to the King, but
received no other answer, because each time the Devil
substituted a false letter, and in the last letter it was also
written that she was to preserve the Queen's tongue and
eyes as a token that she had obeyed.

But the old mother wept to think such innocent blood
was to be shed, and had a hind brought by night and cut
out her tongue and eyes, and kept them. Then said she
to the Queen, " I cannot have thee killed as the King
commands, but here thou maj^st stay no longer. Go forth
into the wide world with thy child, and never come here
again." The poor woman tied her child on her back, and
went away with eyes full of tears. She came into a great

Tale 31.] THE GIRL WITHOUT ARMS. 131

wild forest, and then she fell on her knees and prayed to
God, and the angel of the Lord appeared to her and led
her to a little house on which was a sign with the words,
" Here all dwell free." A snow-white maiden came out
of the little house and said, " Welcome, Lady Queen," and
conducted her inside. Then they unbound the little boy
from her back, and held him to her breast that he might
feed, and then laid him in a beautifully-made little bed.
Then said the poor woman, " From whence knowest thou
that I was a queen ? " The white maiden answered, " 1
am an angel sent by God, to watch over thee and thy
child." The Queen stayed seven years in the little house,
and was well cared for, and by God's grace, because of her
piety, her hands which had been cut off, grew once more.

At last the King came home again from the war, and his
first wish was to see his wife and the child. Then his
aged mother began to weep and said, " Thou wicked man,
why didst thou write to me that I was to take those two
innocent lives ? " and she showed him the two letters which
the Evil-One had forged, and then continued, "I did
as thou badest me," and she showed the tokens, the tongue
and eyes. ^ Then the King began to weep for his poor wife
and his^ little son so much more bitterly than she was
doing, that the aged mother had compassion on him and
said, " Be at peace, she still lives ; I secretly caused a
hind to be killed, and took these tokens from it; but I
bound the child to thy wife's back and bade her go forth
into the wide world, and made her promise never to come
back here again, because thou wert so angry with her."
Then spake the King, " I will go as far as the sky is blue,
and will neither eat nor drink until I have found again
my dear wife and my child, if in the meantime they have
not been killed, or died of hunger."

Thereupon the King travelled about for seven long years,
and sought her in every cleft of the rocks and in every cave'
but he found her not, and thought she had died of want!
During the whole of this time he neither ate nor drank,
but God supported him. At length he came into a great
forest, and found therein the little house whose sign was,
" Here all dwell free." Then forth came the white maiden]
took him by the hand, led him in, and said, " Welcome]

K 2

132 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 31.

Lord King," and asked him from whence he came. He
answered, " Soon shall I have travelled about for the space
of seven years, and I seek my wife and her child, but
cannot find them." The angel offered him meat and drink,
but he did not take anything, and only wished to rest a
little. Then he lay down to sleep, and put a handkerchief
over his face.

Thereupon the angel went into the chamber where the
Queen sat with her son, whom she usually called " Sorrow-
ful," and said to her, " Go out with thy child, thy husband
hath come." So she went to the place where he lay, and
the handkerchief fell from his face. Then said she,
" Sorrowful, pick up thy father's handkerchief, and cover
■ his face again." The child picked it up, and put it over
his face again. The King in his sleep heard what passed,
and had pleasure in letting the handkerchief fall once more.
But the child grew impatient, and said, " Dear mother,
how can I cover my father's face when I have no father
in this world? I have learnt to say the prayer, 'Our
Father, which art in Heaven,' thou hast told me that my
father was in Heaven, and was the good God, and how
can I know a wild man like this ? He is not my father."
When the King heard that, he got up, and asked who they
were. Then said she, " I am thy wife, and that is thy son,
Sorrowful." And he saw her living hands, and said, " My
wife had silver hands." She answered, " The good God
has caused my natural hands to grow again ; " and the
angel went into the inner room, and brought the silver
hands, and showed them to him. Hereupon he knew for a
certainty that it was his dear wife and his dear child, and
he kissed them, and was glad, and said, " A heavy stone
has fallen from off mine heart." Then the angel of God
gave them one meal with her, and after that they went
home to the King's aged mother. There were great
rejoicings everywhere, and the King and Queen were
married again, and lived contentedly to their happy end.

Tale 32.] CLEVER HANS. 13

o

32.— CLEVER HANS.

The mother of Hans said, " Whither away, Hans ? "
Hans answered, " To Grethel." " Behave well, Hans."
" Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother." " Good-bye,
Hans." Hans comes to Grethel, "Good day, Grethel."
*' Good day, Hans. What dost thou bring that is good ? "
" I bring nothing, I want to have something given me."
Grethel presents Hans with a needle. Hans says,
*' Good-bye, Grethel." " Good-bye, Hans."

Hans takes the needle, sticks it into a hay-cart, and
follows the cart home. " Good evening, mother." " Good
evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?" "With Gre-
thel." " What didst thou take her ? " " Took nothing ; had
something given me." " What did Grethel give thee ? "
"Gave me a needle." "Where is the needle, Hans?"
" Stuck in the hay-cart." " That was ill done, Hans.
Thou shouldst have stuck the needle in thy sleeve."
" Never mind, I'll do better next time."

"Whither away, Hans?" "To Grethel, mother."
" Behave well, Hans." " Oh, I'll behave well. Good-
bye, mother." " Good-bye, Hans."

Ha!JS comes to Grethel. " Good day, Grethel." " Good
day, Hans. What dost thou bring that is good?" "I
bring nothing, I want to have something given to me."
Grethel presents Hans with a knife. " Good-bj^e,
Grethel." ^ "Good-bye, Hans." Hans takes the knife,
sticks it in his sleeve, and goes home. " Good evening,
mother." "Good evening, Hans. Where hast thou
been ? " " With Grethel." " What dirlst thou take her ? "
"Took her nothing, she gave me something." "What
did Grethel give thee? " " Gave me a knife." " Where
is the knife, Hans ? " " Stuck in my sleeve." " That's
ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have put the knife in thy
pocket." " Never mind, will do better next time." " Whi-
ther away, Hans?" "To Grethel, mother." "Behave
well, Hans." " Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother."
" Good-bye, Hans."

Hans comes to Grethel. " Good day, Grethel." " Good

] 34 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 32.

day, Hans. What good thing dost thou bring?" "I
bring nothing, I want something given me." Grethel
presents Hans with a young goat. " Good-bye, Grethel,"
*' Good-bye, Hans." Hans takes the goat, ties its legs,
and puts it in his pocket. AVhen he gets home it is
suffocated. " Good evening, mother." " Good evening,
Hans. Where hast thou been?" "With Grethel."
" What didst thou take her ? " " Took nothing, she gave
me something." " What did Grethel give thee ? " " She
gave me a goat." " Where is the goat, Hans ? " " Put it
in my pocket." " That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst
have put a rope round the goat's neck." "IS ever mind,
will do better next time."

" Whither away, Hans ? " " To Grethel, mother."
" Behave well, Hans," " Oh, I'll behave well. Good-bye,
mother." "Good-bye, Hans." Hans comes to Grethel.
" Good day, Grethel." " Good day, Hans. What good
thing dost thou bring?" "I bring nothing, I want
something given me." Grethel presents Hans with a
piece of bacon. " Good-bye, Grethel." " Good-bye,
Hans."

Hans takes the bacon, ties it to a rope, and drags it
away behind him. The dogs come and devour the bacon.
When he gets home, he has the rope in his hand, and
there is no longer anything hanging to it. " Good
evening, mother." " Good evening, Hans. Where hast
thou been ? " " With Grethel." " What didst thou take
her?" "I took her nothing, she gave me something."
" What did Grethel give thee ? " " Gave me a bit of
bacon." " Where is the bacon, Hans." " I tied it to a
rope, brought it home, dogs took it." " That was ill done,
Hans, thou shouldst have carried the bacon on thine
head." " Never mind, will do better next time." " Whi-
ther away, Hans ? " " To Grethel, mother." " Behave
well, Hans." " I'll behave well. Good-bye, mother."
" Good-bye, Hans."

Hans comes to Grethel. " Good day, Grethel."
" Good day, Hans." " What good thing dost thou
bring?" "I bring nothing, but would have something
given." Grethel presents Hans with a calf. " Good-
bye, Grethel." " Good-bye, Hans."

Tale 32.] CLEVER HANS. 135

^ Hans takes the calf, j^uts it on his head, and the calf
kicks his face. " Good evening, mother." " Good
evening, Hans. Where hast thou been?" "With
Grethel." "What didst thou take her?" "I took
nothing, but had something given me." " What did
Grethel give thee?" "A calf." "Where hast thou the
calf, Hans?" "I set it on my head and it kicked my
face." " That was ill done, Hans, thou shouldst have led
the calf, and put it in the stall." " Never mind, will do
better next time."

"Whitlier away, Hans?" "To Grethel, mother."
"Behave well, Hans." "I'll behave well. Good-bye,
mother." "Good-bye, Hans."

Hans comes to Grethel. " Good day, Grethel." " Good
day, Hans. What good thing dost thou bring?" "I
bring nothing, but would have something given."
Grethel says to Hans, " I will go with thee."

Hans takes Grethel, ties her to a rope, leads her to
the rack, and binds her fast. Then Hans goes to his
mother, " Good evening, mother." " Good evening, Hans.
Where hast thou been ? " " With Grethel." " What
didst thou take her ? " "I took her nothing." " What
did Grethel give thee?" "She gave me nothing, she
came with me." " Where hast thou left Grethel ? " "I
led her by the rope, tied her to the rack, and scattered
some grass for her." "That was ill done, Hans, thou
shouldst have cast friendly eyes on her." " Never mind,
will do better."

Hans went into the stable, cut out all the calves' and
sheep's eyes, and threw them in Grethel's face. Then
Grethel became angry, tore herself loose and ran away,
and became the bride of Hans.

136 GEIMM'S household tales. [Tale 33.

33.— THE THREE LANGUAGES.

An aged count once lived in Switzerland, who had an
only son, bnt he was stupid, and could learn nothing.
Then said the father, " Hark thee, my son, I can get
nothing into thy head, let me try as I will. Thoa must
go from hence, I will give thee into the care of a
celebrated master, who shall see what he can do with
thee." The youth was sent into a strange town, and
remained a whole year with the master. At the end of
this time, he came home again, and his father asked,
"Now, my son, what hast thou learnt?" "Father, I
have learnt what the dogs say when they bark." " Lord
have mercy onus!." cried the father; "is that all thou
hast learnt? I will send thee into another town, to
another master." The youth was taken thither, and
stayed a jesiv with this master likewise. When he came
back the father again a^ked, " My son, what hast thou
learnt?" He answered, "Father, I have learnt what
the birds say." Then the father fell into a rage and said,
" Oh, thou lost man, thou hast spent the precious time
and learnt nothing ; art thou not ashamed to appear before
mine eyes? I will send thee to a third master, but if
thou learnest nothing this time also, I will no longer be
thy father." The youth remained a whole year with the
third master also, and when he came home again, and
his father inquired, " My son, what hast thou learnt ? "
he answered, " Dear father, I have this year learnt what
the frogs croak." Then the father fell into the most furious
anger, sprang up, called his people thither, and said, "'This
man is no longer my son, I drive him forth, and command
you to take him out into the forest, and kill him." They
took him forth, but when they should have killed him, they
could not do it for pity, and let him go, and they cut the
eyes and the tongue out of a deer that they might carry
them to the old man as a token.

The youth wandered on, and after some time came
to a fortress where he begged for a night's lodging.
" Yes," said the lord of the castle, " if thou wilt pass the

(

Tale 33.] THE THREE LANGUAGES. 137

night down there in the old tower, go thither ; but I warn
thee, it is at the j^eril of thy life, for it is full of wild dogs,
which bark and howl without stopping, and at certain
hours a man has to be given to them, whom they at once
devour." The whole district was in sorrow and dismay
because of them, and yet no one could do anything to
stop this. The youth, however, was without fear, and said,
" Just let me go down to the barking dogs, and give me
something that I can throw to them ; they will do nothing
to harm me." As he himself would have it so, they gave
him some food for the wild animals, and led him down to
the tower. When he went inside, the dogs did not bark
at him, but wagged their tails quite amicably around
him, ate what he set before them, and did not hurt one
hair of his head. Next morning, to the astonishment
of every one, he came out again safe and unharmed,
and said to the lord of the castle, " The dogs have
revealed to me, in their own language, why they dwell
there, and bring evil on the land. They are bewitched,
and are obliged to watch over a great treasure which
is below in the tower, and they can have no rest
until it is taken away, and I have likewise learnt, from
their discourse, how that is to be done." Then all who
heard this rejoiced, and the lord of the castle said he
would adopt him as a son if he accomplished it successfully.
He went down again, and as he knew what he had to do,
he did it thoroughly, and brought a chest full of gold out
with him. The howling of the wild dogs was henceforth
heard no more; they had disappeared, and the country
was freed from the trouble.

After some time he took it into his head that he would
travel to Rome. On the way he passed by a marsh, in which
a number of frogs were sitting croakilig. He listened to
them, and when he became aware of what they were saying,
he grew very thoughtful and sad. At last he arrived in
Rome, where the Pope had just died, and there was great
difficulty as to whom they should appoint as his successor.
They at length agreed that the person should be chosen
as pope who should be distinguished by some divine and
miraculous token. And just as that was decided on, the
young count entered into the church, and suddenly two

138 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 34.

snow-white doves flew on his shoulders and remained
sitting there. The ecclesiastics recognized therein the
token from above, and asked him on the spot if he would
be pope. He was undecided, and knew not if he were
worthy of this, but the doves counselled him to do it,
and at length he said yes. Then was he anointed and
consecrated, and thus was fulfilled what he had heard
from the frogs on his way, which had so affected him,
that he was to be his Holiness the Pope. Then he had to
sing a mass, and did not know one word of it, but the
two doves sat continually on his shoulders, and said it all
in his ear.

34.— CLEVEE ELSIE.

There was once a man who had a daughter who was
called Clever Elsie. And when she had grown up her
father said, "We will get her married." " Yes," said the
mother, "if only any one would come who would have
her." At length a man came from a distance and wooed
her, who was called Hans ; but he stipulated that Clever
Elsie should be really wise. " Oh," said the father, " she's
sharp enough ; " and the mother said, " Oh, she can see the
wind coming up the street, and hear the flies coughing."
" Well," said Hans, " if she is not really wise, I won't
have her." When they were sitting at dinner and had
eaten, the mother said, " Elsie, go into the cellar and
fetch some beer." Then Clever Elsie took the pitcher
from the wall, went into the cellar, and tapped the lid
briskly as she went that the time might not appear long.
W hen she was below she fetched herself a chair, and set
it before the barrel so that she had no need to stoop, and
did not hurt her back or do herself any unexpected injury.
Then she placed the can before her, and turned the tap,
and while the beer was running she would not let her
eyes be idle, but looked up at the wall, and after much
peering here and there, saw a pick-axe exactly above her,
which the masons had accidentally left there.

Then Clever Elsie began to weep and said, " If I get

Tale 34.] CLEVER ELSIE. 139

Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big, and we send
him into the cellar here to draw beer, then the pick-
axe will fall on his head and kill him." Then she sat and
wept and screamed with all the strength of her body,
over the misfortune which lay before her. Those upstairs
waited tor the drink, but Clever Elsie still did not come.
Then the woman said to the servant, " Just go down into
the cellar and see where Elsie is." The maid went and
found her sitting in front of the barrel, screaming loudly.
" Elsie, why weepest thou ? " asked the maid. " Ah," she
answered, " have I not reason to weep ? If I get Hans,
and we have a child, and he grows big, and has to draw
beer here, the pick-axe will perhaps fall on his head, and
kill him." Then said the maid, " What a clever Elsie we
have ! " and sat down beside her and began loudly to weep
over the misfortune. After a while, as the maid did not
come back, and those upstairs were thirsty for the beer,
the man said to the boy, " Just go down into the cellar
and see where Elsie and the girl are." The boy went
down, and there sat Clever Elsie and the girl both weep-
ing together. Then he asked, "Why are ye weeping?"
" Ah," said Elsie, " have I not reason to weep ? If I get
Hans, and we have a child, and he grows big, and has to
draw beer here, the pick-axe will fall on his head and kill
him." Then said the boy, " What a clever Elsie we have ! "
and sat down by her, and likewise began to howl loudly.
Upstairs they waited for the boy, but as he still did not
return, the man said to the woman, '* Just go down into
the cellar and see where Elsie is ! " The woman went
down, and found all three in the midst of their lamenta-
tions, and inquired what was the cause; then Elsie told
her also that her future child was to be killed by the pick-
axe, when it grew big and had to draw beer, and the
pick-axe fell down. Then said the mother likewise, " What
a clever Elsie we have!" and sat down and wept with
them. The man upstairs waited a short time, but as his
wife did not come back and his thirst grew ever greater,
he said, "I must go into the cellar myself and see where
Elsie is." But when he got into the cellar, and they were
all sitting together crying, and he heard the reason, and
that Elsie's child was the cause, and that Elsie might

140 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 34.

perhaps bring one into the world some day, and that it
might be killed by the pick-axe, if it should hap23en to be
sitting beneath it, drawing beer just at the very time
when it fell down, he cried, " Oh, what a clever Elsie ! "
and sat down, and likewise wept with them. The bride-
groom stayed upstairs alone for a long time ; then as no
one would come back he thought, " They must be waiting
for me below ; I too must go there and see what they
are about." When he got down, live of them were sitting
screaming and lamenting quite piteously, each out-doing
the other. " What misfortune has happened then ? " asked
he. " Ah, dear Hans," said Elsie, " if we marry each
other and have a child, and he is big, and we perhaps send
him here to draw something to driuk, then the pick-axe
which has been left up there might dash his brains out if
it were to fall down, so have we not reason to weep ? "
*' Come," said Hans, " more understanding than that is
not needed for my household, as thou art such a clever
Elsie, I will have thee," and he seized her hand, took her
upstairs with him, and married her.

After Hans had had her some time, he said, " Wife, I
am going out to work and earn some money for us ; go
into the field and cut the corn that we may have some
bread." " Yes, dear Hans, I will do that," After Hans
had gone away, she cooked herself some good broth and
took it into the field with her. Wlien she came to the
field she said to herself, " What shall I do ; shall I shear
first, or shall I eat first? Oh, I will eat first." Then she
emptied her basin of broth, and when she was fully
satisfied, she once more said, " What shall I do ? Shall I
shear first, or shall I sleep first ? I will sleep first.'*
Then she lay down among the corn and fell asleep. Hans
had been at home for a long time, but Elsie did not come ;
then said he, "What a clever Elsie I have; she is so
industrious that she does not even come home to eat."
As, however, she still stayed away, and it was evening,
Hans went out to see what she had cut, but nothing was
cut, and she was lying among the corn asleep. Then
Hans hastened home and brought a fowler's net with
little bells and hung it round about her, and she still
went on sleeping. Then he ran home, shut the house-

Tale 35.] THE TAILOR IN HEAVEN. 141

door, and sat down in his chair and wt)rked. At length,
when it was quite dark, Clever Elsie awoke and when
she got up there was a jingling all round about her,
and the bells rang at each step which she took. Then
she was alarmed, and became uncertain whether she
really was Clever Elsie or not, and said, " Is it I, or is it
not I ? " But she knew not what answer to make to this,
and stood for a time in doubt; at length she thought,
''' I will go home and ask if it be I, or if it be not I, they
will be sure to know."' She ran to the door of her own house,
but it was shut ; then she knocked at the window and cried,
" Hans, is Elsie within ? " " Yes," answered Hans, " she
is within." Hereupon she was terrified, and said, " Ah,
heavens ! Then it is not I," and went to another door ;
but when the people heard the jingling of the bells they
would not open it, and she could get in nowhere. Then
she ran out of the village, and no one has seen her since.

35.— THE TAILOR IN HEAVEN.

One very fine day it came to pass that the good God
wished to enjoy himself in the heavenly garden, and took
all the apostles and saints with him, so that no one
stayed in heaven but Saint Peter. The Lord had com-
manded him to let no one in during his absence, so
Peter stood by the door and kept watch. Before long
some one knocked. Peter asked who was there, and what
he wanted ? "I am a poor, honest tailor who prays for
admission," replied a smooth voice. " Honest indeed," said
Peter, " like the thief on the gallows ! Thou hast been light-
fingered aud hast snipped folks' clothes away. Thou wilt
not get i nto heaven. The Lord hath forbidden me to let any
one in while he is out." " Come, do be merciful," cried
the tailor. " Little scraps which fall off the table of their
own accord are not stolen, and are not worth speaking
about. Look, I am lame, and have blisters on my feet
with walking here, I cannot possibly turn back again.
Only let me in, and I will do all the rough work. I will

142 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 35.

carry the children, and wash their clothes, and wash and
clean the benches on which they have been plajang, and
patch all their torn clothes." Saint Peter let himself be
moved by pity, and opened the door of heaven just wide
enough for the lame tailor to slip his lean body in. He
was forced to sit down in a corner behind the door, and
was to stay quietly and peaceably there, in order that the
Lord, when he returned, might not observe him and be
angry. The tailor obeyed, but once when Saint Peter
went outside the door, he got up, and full of curiosity,
went round about into every corner of heaven, and
inspected the arrangement of every place. At length he
came to a spot where many beautiful and delightful chairs
were standing, and in the midst was a seat all of gold
which was set with shining jewels, likewise it was much
higher than the other chairs, and a footstool of gold was
before it. It was, however, the seat on which the Lord
sat when he was at home, and from which he could see
everything which happened on earth. The tailor stood
still, and looked at the seat for a long time, for it pleased
him better than all else. At last he could master his
curiosity no longer, and climbed up and seated himself in
the chair. Then he saw everything which was happen-
ing on earth, and observed an ugly old woman who was
standing washing by the side of a stream, secretly laying-
two veils on one side for herself. The sight of this made
the tailor so angry that he laid hold of the golden foot-
stool, and threw it down to earth through heaven, at the
old thief. As, however, he could not bring the stool back
again, he slipped quietly oat of the chair, seated himself in
his place behind the door, and behaved as if he had never
stirred from the spot.

When the Lord and master came back again with his
heavenly companions, he did not see the tailor behind
the door, but when he seated himself on his chair
the footstool was missing. He asked Saint Peter what
had become of the stool, but he did not know. Then
he asked if he had let any one come in. " I know of
no one who has been here," answered Peter, " but a lame
tailor, who is still sitting behind the door." Then the
Lord had the tailor brought before him, and asked him

Tale 36.] THE WISHING-TABLE, THE GOLD-ASS, ETC. 143

if he had taken away the stool, and where he had put it ?
" Oh, Lord," answered the tailor joyously, '- 1 threw it in
my anger down to earth at an old woman whom I saw
stealing two veils at the washing." " Oh, thou knave,"
said the Lord, " were I to judge as thou judgest, how
dost thou think thou couldst have escaped' so lono-? I
should long ago have had no chairs, benches, seatst nay,
not even an oven-fork, but should have thrown everything
down at the sinners. Henceforth thou canst stay no
longer in heaven, but must go outside the door again.
Then go where thou wilt. No one shall give punishment
here, but I alone, the Lord."

Peter was obliged to take the tailor out of heaven
agam, and as he had torn shoes, and feet covered with
blisters, he took a stick in his hand, and went to " Wait-
a-bit," where the good soldiers sit and make merry.

36.-THE WISHING-TABLE, THE GOLD- ASS, AND
THE CUDGEL IN THE SACK.

There was once upon a time a tailor who had three sons,
and only one goat. But as the goat supported the whole
of them with her milk, she was obliged to have good food,
and to be taken every day to pasture. The sons, therefore'
did this, in turn. Once the eldest took her to the church-
yard, where the finest herbs were to be found, and let her
eat and run about there. At night when it was time to
go home he asked, "Goat, hast thou had enough?" The
goat answered,

"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh ! meh ! "

"Come home, then," said the youth, and took hold of the
cord round her neck, led her into the stable and tied her
up securely. " Well," said the old tailor, " has the goat
had as much food as she ought?" " Oh," answered the
son, " she has eaten so much, not a leaf more she'll touch."
But the father wished to satisfy himself, and went down

144 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 36.

to the stable, stroked the dear animal and asted, " Goat,
art thou satisfied? " The goat answered,

" Wherewithal should I be satisfied ?
Among the graves I leapt about.
And found no food, so went without, meh ! raeh!"

" What do I hear ? " cried the tailor, and ran upstairs and
said to the youth, " Hollo, thou liar ; thou saidst the goat
had had enough, and hast Jet her hunger!" and in his
anger he took the yard-measure from the wall, and drove
him out with blows.

Next day it was the turn of the second son, who looked
out for a place in the fence of the garden, where nothing
but good herbs grew, and the goat cleared them all off.
At night when he wanted to go home, he asked, " Goat,
art thou satisfied ? " The goat answered,

** I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh ! meh ! '*

" Come home, then," said the youth, and led her home,
and tied her up in the stable. " Well," said the old tailor,
" has the goat had as much, food as she ought ? " " Oh,"
answered the son, " she has eaten so much, not a leaf
more she'll touch." The tailor would not rely on this,
but went down to the stable and said, " Goat, hast thou
had enough ? " The goat answered,

"Wherewithal sh)uld I be satisfied?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no food, so went without, meh! meh!"

"The godless wretch!" cried the tailor, "to let such a
good animal hunger," and he ran up and drove the youth
out of doors with the yard-measure.

Now came the turn of the third son, who wanted to do
the thing well, and sought out some bushes with the
finest leaves, and let the goat devour them. In the even-
ing when he wanted to go home, he asked, " Goat, hast
thou had enough ? " The goat answered,

«I have eaten so much.
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh! meh!"

" Come home, then," said the youth, and led her into the

Tale 36.] THE WISHING-TABLE, THE GOLD-ASS, ETC. 145

stable, and tied her up. " Well," said the old tailor, " has
the goat had a proper amount of food ? " " She has eaten
so much, not a leaf more she'll touch." The tailor did not
trust to that, but went down and asked, " Goat, hast thou
had enough ? " The wicked beast answered,

" Wherewithal should I be satisfied ?
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh ! meh ! "

•' Oh, the brood of liars ! " cried the tailor, " each as
wicked and forgetful of his duty as the other ! Ye shall
no longer make a fool of me," and, quite beside himseH
with anger, he ran upstairs and belaboured the poor
young fellow so vigorously with the yard-measure that
he sprang out of the house.

The old tailor was now alone with his goat. Next
morning he went down into the stable, caressed the goat
and said, " Come, my dear little animal, I will take thee
to feed myself." He took her by the rope and conducted
her to green hedges, and amongst milfoil, and whatever
else goats like to eat. " There thou niayest for once
eat to thy heart's content," said he to her, and let her
browse till evening. Then he asked, "Goat, art thou
satisfied ? " she replied,

"I have eaten so much,
Not a leaf more I'll touch, meh ! meh ! "

" Come home, then," said the tailor, and led her into the
stable, and tied her fast. When he was going away, he
turned round again and said, " Well, art thou satisfied for
once ? " But the goat did not behave better to him, and

cried,

" Wherewithal should I be satisfied ? .
Among the graves I leapt about,
And found no leaves, so went without, meh ! meh ! '

When the tailor heard that, he was shocked, and saw
clearly that he had driven away his three sons without
cause. "Wait, thou ungrateful creature," cried he, "it is
not enough to drive thee forth, I will mark thee so that
thou wilt no more dare to show thyself amongst honest
tiilors." In great haste he ran upstairs, fetched his razor,
VOL. 1 L

146 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 36.

lathered the g;oat's Head, and shaved her as clean as the
palm of his hand. And as the yard-measure would have
heen too good for her, he brought the horsewhip, and gave
her such cuts with it that she ran away in violent haste.
When the tailor was thus left quite alone in his house he
fell into great grief, and would gladly have had his sons
back again, but no one knew whither they were gone.
The eldest had apprenticed himself to a joiner, and
learnt industriously and indefatigably, and when the time
came for him to go travelling,* his master presented him
with a little table which had no particular appearance,
and was made of common wood, but it had one good pro-
perty ; if any one set it out, and said, " Little table,
spread thyself," the good little table was at once covered
with a clean little cloth, and a j)late was there, and a
knife and fork beside it, and dishes with boiled meats and
roasted meats, as many as there was room for, and a great
glass of red wine shone so that it made the heart glad.
The young journeyman thought, " With this thou hast
enough for thy whole life," and went joyously about the
world and never troubled himself at all whether an inn
was good or bad, or if anything was to be found in it or
not. When it suited him he did not enter an inn at
all, but either in the plain, in a wood, a meadow, or
wherever he fancied, he took his little table off his back,
set it down before him, and said, " Cover thyself," and
then everything appeared that his heart desired. At
length he took it into his head to go back to his father,
whose anger would now be appeased, and who would
now willingly receive him with his wishing-table.
It came to pass that on his way home, he came one
evening to an inn which was filled with guests. They
bade him welcome, and invited him to sit and eat with
them, for otherwise he would have difficulty in getting
anything. " No," answered the joiner, " I will not take
the few bites out of your mouths ; rather than that, you

* On the completion of his apprenticeship (LehrjaJire) a German
artisan's travels (Wander jahre) begin. This is a certain period
during which he is obliged by law, or custom, to travel about from place
to place, to perfect his knowledge of his craft. He cannot become a
master until he has gone through this. — Tr.

Tale 36.] THE WISHING-TABLE, THE GOLD ASS, ETC. 147

shall be my guests." They laughed, and thought he was
jesting with them ; he, however, placed his wooden table in
the middle of the room, and said, " Little table, cover thy-
self." Instantly it was covered with food, so good that
the host could never have ^^rocured it, and the smell of it as-
cended pleasantly to the nostrils of the guests. " Fall to,
dear friends," said the joiner; and the guests when they saw
that he meant it, did not need to be asked twice, but drew
near, pulled out their knives and attacked it valiantly.
And what surprised them the most was that when a dish
became empty, a full one instantly took its place of
its own accord. The innkeeper stood in one corner and
watched the affair ; he did not at all know what to say, but
thought, " Thou couldst easily find a use for such a cook
as that in thy kitchen." The joiner and his comrades
made merry until late into the night ; at length they lay
down to sleep, and the young apprentice also went to bed,
and set his magic table against the wall. The host's
thoughts, however, let him have no rest ; it occurred to
him that there was a little old table in his lumber-room,
which looked just like the apprentice's, and he brought
it out quite softly, and exchanged it for the wishing- table.
Next morning, the joiner paid for his bed, took up his
table, never thinking that he had got a false one, and went
his way. At mid-day he reached his father, who received
him with great joy. " Well, my dear son, what hast thou
learnt ? " said he to him. " Father, I have become a
joiner."

" A good trade," replied the old man ; " but what hast
thou brought back with thee from thy apprenticeshij) ? "
" Father, the best thing which I have brought back with
me is this little table." The tailor inspected it on all
sides and said, " Thou didst not make a masterpiece * when
thou mad'st that ; it is a bad old table." " But it is a table
which furnishes itself," replied the son. " When I set it
out, and tell it to cover itself, the most beautiful dishes
stand on it, and a wine also, which gladdens the heart.
Just invite all our relations and friends, they shall refresh

* Masterpiece — the piece of work which a journeyman has to make
at the end of his Wanderjahre to prove his right to become a master
craftsman.

L 2

148 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 36.

and enjoy themselves for once, for the table will give
them all they require." When the company was assem-
bled, he put his table in the middle of the room and
said, " Little table, cover thyself," but the little table did
not bestir itself, and remained just as bare as any other
table which did not understand language. Then the
poor apprentice became aware that his table had been
changed, and was ashamed at having to stand there like
a liar. The relations, however, mocked him, and were
forced to go home without having eaten Or drunk.
The father brought out his patches again, and went on
tailoring, but the son went to a master in the craft.

The second son had gone to a miller and had appren-
ticed himself to him. When his years were over, the
master said, " As thou hast conducted thyself so well,
I give thee an ass of a peculiar kind, which neither draws
a cart nor carries a sack." " To what use is he put, then ? "
asked the young apprentice. " He lets gold drop from
his mouth," answered the miller. " If thou settest him on
a cloth and say est ' Bricklebrit,' the good animal will
drop gold pieces for thee." " That is a fine thing," said
the apprentice, and thanked the master, and went out into
the world. When he had need of gold, he had only to say
" Bricklebrit " to his ass, and it rained gold pieces, and
he had nothing to do but pick them off the ground.
Wheresoever he went, the best of everything was good
enough for him, and the dearer the better, for he had
always a full purse. When he had looked about the
world for some time, he thought, " Thou must seek out
thy father, if thou goest to him with the gold-ass he will
forget his anger, and receive thee well." It came to pass
that he came to the same public-house in which his
brother's table had been exchanged. He led his ass by
the bridle, and the host was about to take the animal from
him and tie him up, but the young apprentice said, " Don't
trouble yourself, I will take my grey horse into the stable,
and tie him up myself too, for I must know where he
stands." This struck the host as odd, and he thought that a
man who was forced to look after his ass himself, could not
have much to spend ; but when the stranger put his hand
in his pocket and brought out two gold pieces, and said he

Tale 36.] THE WISHING-TABLE, THE GOLD ASS, ETC. 149

was to provide something good for him, the host opened
his eyes wide, and ran and sought out the best he could
muster. After dinner the guest asked what he owed.
The host did not see why he should not double the reckon-
ing, and said the apprentice must give two more gold
pieces. He felt in his pocket, but his gold was just at an
end. '-Wait an instant, sir host," said he, "I will go
and fetch some money ; " but he took the table-cloth with
him. The host could not imagine what this could mean,
and being curious, stole after him, and as the guest bolted
the stable- door, he peeped through a hole left by a knot
in the wood. The stranger spread out the cloth under
the animal and cried, " Bricklebrit," and immediately
the beast began to let gold pieces fall, so that it fairly
rained down money on the ground. " Eh, my word," said
the host, " ducats are quickly coined there ! A purse like
that is not amiss." The guest paid his score, and went to
bed, but in the night the host stole down into the stable,
led away the master of the mint, and tied up another
ass in his place. Early next morning the apprentice
travelled away with his ass, and thought that he had his
gold-ass. At mid-day he reached his father, who rejoiced
to see him again, and gladly took him in. " What hast
thou made of thyself, my son ? " asked the old man. " A
miller, dear father," he answered. " What hast thou
brought back with thee from thy travels ? " " Nothing
else but an ass." " There are asses enough here," said the
father, " I would rather have had a good goat." " Yes,"
replied the son, " but it is no common ass, but a gold-ass,
when I say ' Bricklebrit,' the good beast opens its mouth
and drops a whole sheetful of gold pieces. Just summon
all our relations hither, and I will make them rich
folks." " That suits me well," said the tailor, " for then
I shall have no need to torment myself any longer with
the needle," and ran out himself and called the relations
together. As soon as they were assembled, the miller
bade them make way, spread out his cloth, and brought
the ass into the room. " Now watch," said he, and cried,
*' Bricklebrit," but no gold pieces fell, and it was clear
that the animal knew nothing of the art, for every ass
does not attain such perfection. Then the poor miller

150 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 36.

pulled a long face, saw that he was betrayed, and begged
pardon of the relatives, who went home as poor as they "
came. There was no help for it, the old man had to
betake him to his needle once more, and the youth hired
himself to a miller.

The third brother had apprenticed himself to a turner,
and as that is skilled labour, he was the longest in learning.
His brothers, however, told him in a letter how badly
things had gone with them, and how the inn-keeper had
cheated them of their beautiful wishing-gifts on the last
evening before they reached home. When the turner had
served his time, and had to set out on his travels, as he
had conducted himself so well, his master presented him
with a sack and said, " There is a cudgel in it." " I can
put on the sack," said he, " and it may be of good service to
me, but why should the cudgel be in it ? It only makes it
heavy." " I will tell thee why," replied the master ; " if
any one has done anything to injure thee, do but say, ' Out
of the sack. Cudgel ! ' and the cudgel will leap forth among
the people, and play such a dance on their backs that they
will not be able to stir or move for a week, and it will
not leave off until thou say est, " Into the sack, Cudgel ! "
The apprentice thanked him, put the sack on his back,
and when any one came too near him, and wished to
attack him, he said, " Out of the sack, Cudgel ! " and
instantly the cudgel sprang out, and dusted the coat or
jacket of one after the other on their backs, and
never stopped until it had stripped it off them, and it
was done so quickly, that before any one was aware, it
was already his own turn. In the evening the young
turner reached the inn where his brothers had been
cheated. He laid his sack on the table before him, and
began to talk of all the wonderful things which he had
seen in the world. " Yes," said he, " people may easily
find a table which will cover itself, a gold-ass, and things
of that kind — extremely good things which I by no means
despise — but these are nothing in comparison with the
treasure which I have won for myself, and am carrying
about with me in my sack there." The inn-keeper pricked
up his ears, " What in the world can that be ? " thought
he ; " the sack must be filled with nothing but jewels ; I

Tale 36.] THE WISHING-TABLE, THE GOLD ASS, ETC. 151

ought to get tliem cheap too, for all good things go in
threes." When it was time for sleep, the guest stretched
himself on the bench, and laid his sack beneath him for a
pillow. When the inn-keeper thought his guest was
lying in a sound sleep, he went to him and pushed and
pulled quite gently and carefully at the sack to see if he
could possibly draw it away and lay another in its place.
The turner had, however, been waiting for this for a long
time, and now just as the inn-keeper was about to give a
hearty tug, he cried, " Out of the sack. Cudgel ! " Instantly
the little cudgel came forth, and fell on the inn-keeper,
and gave him a sound thrashing.

The host cried for mercy ; but the louder he cried, so
much the more heavily the cudgel beat the time on his
back, until at length he fell to the ground exhausted.
Then the turner said, "If thou dost not give back
the table which covers itself, and the gold-ass, the dance
shall begin afresh." " Oh, no," cried the host, quite
humbly, "I will gladly produce everything, only
make the accursed kobold creep back into the sack."
Then said the apprentice, " I will let mercy take the
place of justice, but beware of getting into mischief
again ! " fc;o he cried, " Into the sack, Cudgel ! " and let
him have rest.

Next morning the turner went home to his father
with the wishing-table, and the gold-ass. The tailor
rejoiced when he saw him once more, and asked him
likewise what Tie had learned in foreign parts. " Dear
father," said he, " I have become a turner." " A skilled
trade," said the father. " What hast thou brought back
with thee from thy travels ? "

" A precious thing, dear father," replied the son, " a
cudgel in the sack."

" What ! " cried the father, " a cudgel ! That's worth
thy trouble, indeed ! From every tree thou canst cut
thyself one." " But not one like this, dear father. If I say
' Out of the sack. Cudgel ! ' the cudgel springs out and
leads any one who means ill with me a weary dance, and
never stops until he lies on the ground and prays for fair
weather. Look you, with this cudgel have I got back the
wishing-table and the gold-ass which the thievish inn-

152 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 36.

keeper took away from my brotliers. Now let them both be
sent for, and invite all our kinsmen. I will give them to eat
and to drink, and will fill their pockets with gold into the
bargain." The old tailor would not qnite believe, but
nevertheless got the relatives together. Then the turner
spread a cloth in the room and led in the gold-ass, and said
to his brother, " Now, dear brother, speak to him." The
miller said, " Bricklebrit," and instantly the gold pieces fell
down on the cloth like a thunder-shower, and the ass did not
stop until every one of them had so much that he could
carry no more. (I can see in thy face that thou also
wouldst have liked to be there.)

Then the turner brought the little table, and said,
" Now, dear brother, speak to it." And scarcely had
the carpenter said, " Table, cover thyself," than it was
spread and amply covered with the most exquisite dishes.
Then such a meal took place as the good tailor had never
yet known in his house, and the whole party of kinsmen
stayed together till far in the night, and were all merry
and glad. The tailor locked away needle and thread, yard-
measure and goose, in a press, and lived with his three
sons in joy and splendour.

(What, however, has become of the goat who was to
blame for the tailor driving out his three sons ? That I
will tell thee. She was ashamed that she had a bald
head, and ran to a fox's hole and crept into it. When the
fox came home, he was met by two great eyes shining
out of the darkness, and was terrified and ran away. A
bear met him, and as the fox looked quite disturbed, he
said, " What is the matter with thee, brother Fox, why
dost thou look like that ? " " Ah," answered Eedskin, " a
fierce beast is in my cave and stared at me with its fiery
eyes." " We will soon drive him out," said the bear, and
went with him to the cave and looked in, but when he
saw the fiery eyes, fear seized on him likewise ; he would
have nothing to do with the furious beast, and took to his
heels. The bee met him, and as she saw that he was ill
at ease, she said, " Bear, thou art really pulling a very
pitiful face ; what has become of all thy gaiety ? " " It is
all very well for thee to talk," replied the bear, " a furious
beast with staring eyes is in Kedskin's house, and we

Tale 37.] THUMBLING. 153

can't drive him out." The bee said, " Bear, I pity thee,
I am a poor weak creature whom thou would st not turn
aside to look at, but still, I believe, 1 can help thee." She
flew into the fox*s cave, lighted on the goat's smoothly-
shorn head, and stung her so violently, that she sprang
up, crying " Meh, meh," and ran forth into the world as if
mad, and to this hour no one knows where she has gone.)

37.— THUMBLING.

There was once a poor peasant who sat in the evening
by the hearth and poked the fire, and his wife sat and
span. Then said he, " How sad it is that we have no
children ! With us all is so quiet, and in other houses
it is noisy and lively."

" Yes," replied the wife, and sighed, " even if we had
only one, and it were quite small, and only as big as a
thumb, I should be quite satisfied, and we would still
love it with all our hearts." Now it so happened that
the woman fell ill, and after seven months, gave birth
to a child, that was perfect in all its limbs, but no
longer than a thumb. Then said they, " It is as we wished
it to be, and it shall be our dear child ;" and because of
its size, they called it Thumbling. They did not let it
want for food, but the child did not grow taller, but
remained as it had been at the first, nevertheless it looked
sensibly out of its eyes, and soon showed itself to be a
wise and nimble creature, for everything it did turned out
well.

One day the peasant was getting ready to go into the.
forest to cut wood, when he said as if to himself, " How
I wish that there was any one who would bring the cart to
me ! " " Oh, father," cried Thumbling, " I will soon bring
the cart, rely on that ; it shall be in the forest at the
appointed time." The man smiled and said, " How can
that be done, thou art far too small to lead the horse
by the reins ? " " That's of no consequence, father, if my
mother will only harness it, I will sit in the horse's ear,
and call out to him how he is to go." " Well," answered
the man, " for once we will try it."

154 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 37.

When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse,
and placed Thumbling in its ear, and then the little
creature cried " Gee up, gee np ! "

Then it went quite properly as if with its master, and
the cart went the right way into the forest. It so happened
that just as he was turning a comer, and the little one
was crying " Gee up," two strange men came towards him.
" My word ! " said one of them. " What is this ? There is
a cart coming, and a driver is calling to the horse, and
still he is not to be seen ! " " That can't be right," said
the other, " we will follow the cart and see where it
stops." The cart, however, drove right into the forest,
and exactly to the place where the wood had been cut.
When Thumbling saw his father, he cried to him, " Seest
thou, father, here I am with the cart ; now take me down."
The father got hold of the horse with his left hand, and
with the right took his little son out of the ear. Thumb-
ling sat down quite merrily on a straw, but when the two
strange men saw him, they did not know what to say for
astonishment. Then one of them took the other aside and
said, "Hark, the little fellow would make our fortune
if we exhibited him in a large town, for money. We
will buy him." They went to the peasant and said,
" Sell us the little man. He shall be well treated with
•QS." " No," replied the father, "he is the apple of my
eye, and all the money in the world cannot buy him from
me." Thumbling, however, when he heard of the
bargain, had crept up the folds of his father's coat, placed
himself on his shoulder, and whispered in his ear,
" Father, do give me away, I will soon come back again."
Then the father parted with him to the two men for a
handsome bit of money. " Where wilt thou sit ? " they
said to him. " Oh, just set me on the rim of your hat,
and then I can walk backwards and forwards and look at
the country, and still not fall down." They did as he
wished, and when Thumbling had taken leave of his
father, they went away with him. They walked until
it was dusk, and then the little fellow said, " Do take
me down, I want to come down." The man took
his hat off, and put the little fellow on the ground by
the wayside, and he leapt and crept about a little

Tale 37.] THUMBLING. 155

between the sods, and then he suddenly slipped into a
mouse-hole which he had sought out. " Good evening,
gentlemen, just go home without me," he cried to them,
and mocked them. They ran thither and stuck their
sticks into the mouse-hole, but it was all lost labour.
Thumbling cre23t still farther in, and as it soon became
quite dark, they were forced to go home with their
vexation and their empty purses.

When Thumbling saw that they were gone, he crept
back out of the subterranean passage. "It is so dan-
gerous to walk on the ground in the dark," said he ; " how
easily a neck or a leg is broken ! " Fortunately he knocked
against an empty snail-shell. " Thank God ! " said he.
" In that I can pass the night in safety," and got into it.
Not long afterwards, when he was just going to sleep, he
heard two men go by, and one of them was saying, " How
shall we contrive to get hold of the rich pastor's silver
and gold ? " "I could tell thee that," cried Thumbling,
interrupting them. " What was that?" said one of the
thieves in a fright, " I heard some one speaking." They
stood still listening, and Thumbling spoke again, and
said, " Take me with you, and I'll help you."

" But where art thou ? " " Just look on the ground, and
observe from whence my voice comes," he replied. There
the thieves at length found him, and lifted him up.
" Thou little imp, how wilt thou help us ? " they said.
" A great deal," said he, " I will creep into the pastor's room
through the iron bars, and will reach out to you whatever
you want to have." " Come then," they said, " and we
will see what thou canst do." When they got to the
pastor's house, Thumbling crept into the room, but in-
stantly cried out with all his might, *' Do you want to have
everything that is here ? " The thieves were alarmed,
and said, " But do speak softly, so as not to waken any
one ! " Thumbling, however, behaved as if he had not
understood this, and cried again, " What do you want ?
Do you want to have everything that is here?" The
cook, who slept in the next room, heard this and sat up in
bed, and listened. The thieves, however, had in their
fright run some distance away, but at last they took
courage, and thought, " The little rascal wants to mock us."

156 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 37.

They came back and whispered to him, " Come, be serious,
and reach something out to us." Then Thumbling again
cried as loudly as he could, " I really will give you every-
thing, only put your hands in." The maid who was
listening, heard this quite distinctly, and jumped out of bed
and rushed to the door. The thieves took flight, and ran
as if the Wild Huntsman were behind them, but as the
maid could not see anything, she went to strike a light.
When she came to the place with it, Thumbling, unper-
ceived, betook himself to the granary, and the maid, after
she had examined every corner and found nothing, lay
down in her bed again, and believed that, after all, she
had only been dreaming with open eyes and ears.

Thumbling had climbed up among the hay and found a
beautiful place to sleep in ; there he intended to rest until
day, and then go home again to his parents. But he had
other things to go through. Truly there is much afflic-
tion and misery in this world ! When day dawned, the
maid arose from her bed to feed the cows. Her first w^alk
was into the barn, where she laid hold of an armful of
hay, and precisely that very one in which poor Thumb-
ling was lying asleep. He, however, was sleeping so
soundly that he was aware of nothing, and did not awake
until he was in the mouth of the cow, who had picked him
up with the hay. " Ah, heavens ! " cried he, " how have
I got into the fulling mill ? " but he soon discovered
where he was. Then it w^as necessary to be careful
not to let himself go betw^een the teeth and be dismem-
bered, but he was nevertheless forced to slip down
into the stomach with the hay. " In this little room
the windows are forgotten," said he, " and no sun shines
in, neither will a candle be brought." His quarters
were especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was,
more and more hay was always coming in by the door,
and the space grew less and less. Then, at length in his
anguish, he cried as loud as he could, " Bring me no more
fodder, bring me no more fodder." The maid was just
milking the cow, and when she heard some one speaking,
and saw no one, and perceived that it was the same voice
that she had heard in the night, she was so terrified that
she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk. She ran in

Tale 37.] THUMBLING. 157

the greatest haste to her master, and said, " Oh, heavens,
pastor, the cow has been speaking ! " " Thou art mad,"
replied the pastor ; but he went himself to the byre to see
what was there. Hardly, however, had he set his foot
inbide than Thnmbling again cried, " Bring me no more
fodder, bring me no more fodder." Then the pastor him-
self was alarmed, and thought that an evil spirit had gone
into the cow, and ordered her to be killed. She was killed,
but the stomach, in which Thnmbling was, was thrown
on the midden. Thnmbling had great difficulty in work-
ing his way ; however, he succeeded so far as to get
some room, but, just as he was going to thrust his head
out, a new misfortune occurred. A hungry wolf ran
thither, and swallowed the whole stomach at one gulp.
Thnmbling did not lose courage. " Perhaps," thought he,
" the wolf will listen to what I have got to say," and he
called to him from out of his stomach, " Dear wolf, I know
of a magnificent feast for thee."

" "Where is it to be had ? " said the wolf.

" In such and such a house ; thou must creep into it
through the kitchen-sink, and wilt find cakes, and bacon,
and sausages, and as much of them as thou canst eat," and
he described to him exactly his father's house. The wolf
did not require to be told this twice, squeezed himself in at
night through the sink, and ate to his heart's content in
the larder. When he had eaten his fill, he wanted to go
out again, but he had become so big that he could not
go out by the same way. Thnmbling had reckoned on
this, and now began to make a violent noise in the wolfs
body, and raged and screamed as loudly as he could. " Wilt
thou be quiet," said the wolf, " thou wilt waken up the
people ! " "Eh, what," replied the little fellow, " thou hast
eaten thy fill, and I will make merry likewise," and began
once more to scream with all his strength. At last his
father and mother were aroused by it, and ran to the room
and looked in through the opening in the door. When
they saw that a wolf was inside, they ran away, and the
husband fetched his axe, and the wife the scythe. " Stay
behind," said the man, when they entered the room.
" When I have given him a blow, if he is not killed by it,
thou must cut him down and hew his body to pieces." Then

158 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 38.

Thumbling heard his parents' voices, and cried, "Deal
father, I am here ; I am in the wolfs body." Sajd the
father, full of joy, " Thank God, our dear child has found
us again," and bade the woman take away her scythe, that
Thumbling might not be hurt with it. After that he
raised his arm, and struck the wolf such a blow on his head
that he fell down dead, and then they got knives and
scissors and cut his body open, and drew the little fellow
forth. " Ah," said the father, " what sorrow we have
gone through for thy sake." " Yes, father, I have gone
about the world a great deal. Thank heaven, I breathe
fresh air again ! " " Where hast thou been, then ? " " Ah,
father, I have been in a mouse's hole, in a cow's stomach,
and then in a wolf's ; now I will stay with you." " And
we will not sell thee again, no, not for all the riches in the
world," said his parents, and they embraced and kissed
their dear Thumbling. They gave him to eat and to
drink, and had some new clothes made for him, for his own
had been spoiled on his journey.

38.— THE WEDDING OF MRS. FOX.

First Story.

There was once on a time an old fox with nine tails, who
believed that his wife was not faithful to him, and wished
to try her. He stretched himself out under the bench,
did not move a limb, and behaved as if he were stone dead.
Mrs. Fox went up to her room, shut herself in, and her
maid. Miss Cat, sat by the fire, and did the cooking.
When it became known that the old fox was dead, wooers
presented themselves. The maid heard some one standing
at the house-door, knocking. She went and opened it, and
it was a young fox, who said,

" What may you be about, Miss Cat ?
Do you sleep or do you wake?"

She answered,

"I am not sleeping, I am -waking,
Wouldst thou know what I am making?

Tale 38.] THE WEDDING OF MRS. FOX. 159

I am boiling warm beer with butter so nice,

Will the gentleman enter and drink some likewise ? "

" No, thank you, miss," said the fox, " what is Mrs. Fox
doing ? " The maid replied,

" She sits all alone,
And makes her moan.
Weeping her little eyes quite red,
Because old Mr. Fox is dead."

" Do just tell her, miss, that a young fox is here, who
would like to woo her." " Certainly, young sir."

The cat goes up the stairs trip, trap.

The door she knocks at tap, tap, tap,

" Mistress Fox, are you inside ? "

" Oh yes, my little cat," she cried.

"A wooer he stands at the door out there."

" Tell me what he is like, my dear ? "

"But has he nine as beautiful tails as the late Mr.
Fox ? " " Oh, no," answered the cat, " he has only one."

" Then I will not have him." Miss Cat went downstairs
and sent the wooer away. Soon afterwards there was
another knock, and another fox was at the door who
wished to woo Mrs. Fox. He had two tails, but he did
not fare better than the first. After this still more came,
each with one tail more than the other, but they were all
turned away, until at last one came who had nine tails,
like old Mr. Fox. When the widow heard that, she said
joyfully to the cat,

"Now open the gates and doors all wide,
And carry old Mr. Fox outside."

But just as the wedding was going to be solemnized, old
Mr. Fox stirred under the bench, and cudgelled all the
rabble, and drove them and Mrs. Fox out of the house.

Second Story.

When old Mr. Fox was dead, the wolf came as a wooer,
and knocked at the door, and the cat who was servant to
Mrs. Fox, opened it for him. The wolf greeted her, and
said,

" Good day, Mrs. Cat of Kehrewit,

How comes it that alone you sit ?

What are you making good ? "

160 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 38.

The cat replied,

" In milk I'm breaking bread so sweet,
Will the gentleman please to come in and eat?"

" No, thank yon, Mrs. Cat," answered the wolf. " Is
Mrs. Fox not at home ? "
The cat said,

"She sits upstairs in her room,
Bewailing her sorrowful doom,
Bewailing her trouble so sore,
For old Mr. Fox is no more."

The wolf answered,

" If she's in want of a husband now,
Then will it please her to step below?"
The cat runs quickly up the stair,
And lets her tail fly here and there,
Until she comes to the parlour door.
With her five gold rings at the door she knocks,
" Are you within, good Mistress Fox ?
If you're in want of a husband now.
Then will it please you to step below?"

Mrs. Fox asked, " Has the gentleman red stockings on'
and has he a pointed mouth ? " " No," answered the cat.
" Then he won't do for me."

When the wolf was gone, came a dog, a stag, a hare, a
bear, a lion, and all the beasts of the forest, one after
the other. But one of the good points which old
Mr. Fox had possessed, was always lacking, and the cat
had continually to send the wooers away. At length came
a young fox. Then Mrs. Fox said, " Has the gentleman
red stockings on, and has he a little pointed mouth?"
" Yes," said the cat, " he has." " Then let him come
upstairs," said Mrs. Fox, and ordered the servant to
prepare the wedding-feast.

" Sweep me the room as clean as you can,
Up with the window, fling out my old man !
For many a fine fat mouse he brought,
Yet of his wife he never thought.
But ate up every one he caught."

Then the wedding was solemnized with^ young Mr. Fox,
and there was much rejoicing and dancing ; and if they
have not left off, they are dancing still.

Tale 39.] THE ELVES. 161

39.— THE ELVES.

First Story.

A SHOEMAKER, by no fault of his own, had become so poor
that at last he had nothing left but leather for one pair
of shoes. So in the evening, he cut out the shoes which
he wished to begin to make the next morning, and as he
had a good conscience, he lay down quietly in his bed,
commended himself to God, and fell asleep. In the
morning, after he had said his prayers, and was just
going to sit down to work, the two shoes stood quite
finished on his table. He was astounded, and did not know
what to say to it. He took the shoes in his hands to
observe them closer, and they were so neatly made that
there was not one bad stitch in them, just as if they were
intended as a masterpiece. Soon after, too, a buyer came
in, and as the shoes pleased him so well, he paid more for
them than was customary, and, with the money, the
shoemaker was able to purchase leather for two pairs of
shoes. He cut them out at night, and next morn-
ing was about to set to work with fresh courage ;
but he had no need to do so, for, when he got up, they
were already made, and buyers also were not wanting,
who gave him money enough to buy leather for four
pairs of shoes. The following morning, too, he found the
four pairs made ; and so it went on constantly, what he cut
out in the evening was finished by the morning, so that
he soon had his honest independence again, and at last
became a wealthy man. Now it befell that one evening
not long before Christmas, when the man had been
cutting out, he said to his wife, before going to bed,
" What think you if we were to stay up to-night to see
who it is that lends us this helping hand? " . The woman
liked the idea, and lighted a candle, and then they hid
themselves in a corner of the room, behind some clothes
which were hanging up there, and watched. When it
was midnight, two pretty little naked men came, sat
down by the shoemaker's table, took all the work which
was cut out before them and began to stitch, and sew, and
hammer so skilfully and so quickly with their little

VOL. I. M

162 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 39.

fingers that the shoemaker could not turn away his eyes for
astonishment. They did not stop until all was done, and
stood finished on the table, and then they ran quickly

away.

Next morning the woman said, " The little men have
made us rich, and we really must show that we are
grateful for it. They run about so, and have nothing on,
and must be cold. I'll tell thee what I'll do : I will make
them little shirts, and coats, and vests, and trousers, and
knit both of them a pair of stockings, and do thou, too,
make them two little pairs of shoes." The man said, "I
shall be very glad to do it ;" and one night, when every thmg
was ready, they laid their presents all together on the
table instead of the cut-out work, and then concealed
themselves to see how the little men would behave. At
midnight they came bounding in, and wanted to get to
work at once, but as they did not find any leather cut
out, but only the pretty little articles of clothing, they
were at first astonished, and then they showed intense
delight. They dressed themselves with the _ greatest
rapidity, putting the pretty clothes on, and singing,

"Now we are boys so fine to see,
Why should we longer cobblers be?"

Then they danced and skipped and leapt over chairs
and benches. At last they danced out of doors. From that
time forth they came no niore, but as long as the shoemaker
lived all went well with him, and all his undertakings

prospered.

Second Story.

There was once a poor servant-girl, who was indus-
trious and cleanly, and swept the house every day, and
emptied her sweepings on the great heap in front of the
door. One morning when she was just going back to her
work, she found a letter on this heap, and as she could not
read, she put her broom in the corner, and took the
letter to her master and mistress, and behold it was an
invitation from the elves, who asked the girl to hold a
child for them at its christening. The girl did not know
what to do, but at length, after much persuasion, and as
they told her that it was not right to refuse an invitation

Tale 39.] THE ELVES. 163

of this kind, she consented. Then three elves came and
conducted her to a hollow mountain, where the little
folks lived. Everything there was small, but more
elegant and beautiful than can be described. The
baby's mother lay in a bed of black ebony ornamented
with pearls, the coverlids were embroidered with gold,
the cradle was of ivory, the bath of gold. The girl stood
as godmother, and then wanted to go home again, but
the little elves urgently entreated her to stay three days
with them. So she stayed, and passed the time in
pleasure and gaiety, and the little folks did all they could
to make her happy. At last she set out on her way home.
Then first they filled her pockets quite full of money, and
after that they led her out of the mountain again. When
she got home, she wanted to begin her work, and took the
broom, which was still standing in the corner, in her hand
and began to sweep. Then some strangers came out of the
house, who asked her who she was, and what business she
had there ? And she had not, as she thought, been three
days with the little men in the mountains, but seven
years, and in the meantime her former masters had died. ■

Third Story.

A CERTAIN mother's child had been taken away out of
its cradle by the elves, and a changeling with a large
head and staring eyes, which would do nothing but eat
and drink, laid in its place. In her trouble she went to
her neighbour, and asked her advice. The neighbour
said that she was to carry the changeling into the
kitchen, set it down on the hearth, light a fire, and boil
some water in two egg-shells, which would make the
changeling laugh, and if he laughed, all would be over
with him. The woman did everything that her neigh-
bour bade her. When she put the egg-shells with water
on the tire, the imp said, " I am as old now as the Wester
forest, but never yet have I seen any one boil anything
in an egg-shell ! " And he began to laugh at it. Whilst
he was laughing, suddenly came a host of little elves,
who brought the right child, set it down on the hearth,
and took the changeling away with them.

M 2

164 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 40.

40.— THE EOBBER BRIDEGEOOM.

There was once on a time a miller, who had a beautiful
daughter, and as she was grown up, he wished that
sue "was provided for, and well married. He thought,
" If any good suitor comes and asks for her, I will
give her to him." Not long afterwards, a suitor came,
who appeared to be very rich, and as the miller had
no fault to find with him, he promised his daughter to
him. The maiden, however, did not like him quite so
much as a girl should like the man to whom she is
engaged, and had no confidence in him. Whenever she
saw, or thought of him, she felt a secret horror.
Once he said to her, "Thou art my betrothed, and yet
thou hast never once paid me a visit." The maiden
replied, " I know not where thy house is." Then said
the bridegroom, "My house is out there in the dark
forest." tjhe tried to excuse herself, and said she could
not find the way there. The bridegroom said, " Next
Sunday thou must come out there to me ; I have already
invited the guests, and I will strew ashes in order that thou
may St find thy way through the forest." When Sunday
came, and the maiden had to set out on her way, she
became very uneasy, she herself knew not exactly why,
and to mark her way she filled both her pockets full of
peas and lentils. Ashes were strewn at' the entrance of
the forest, and these she followed, but at every step she
threw a couple of peas on the ground. She walked
almost the whole day until she reached the middle of the
forest, where it was the darkest, and there stood a solitary
house, which she did not like, for it looked so dark and
dismal. She went inside it, but no one was within, and the
most absolute stillness reigned. Suddenly a voice cried,

"Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,
'Tis a murderer's house you enter here."

The maiden looked up, and saw that the voice came
from a bird, which was hanging in a cage on the wall.
Again it cried,

"Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,
'Tis a murderer's house you enter here."

Tale 40.] THE ROBBER BRIDEGROOM. 165

Then the young maiden went on farther from one room
to another, and walked through the whole house, but it
was entirely emj)ty and not one human being was to be
found. At last she came to the cellar, and there sat an
extremely aged woman, whose head shook constantly.
" Can you not tell me," said the maiden, " if my be-
trothed lives here ? "

" Alas, poor child," replied the old woman, " whither
hast thou come ? Thou art in a murderer's den. Thou
thinkest thou art a bride soon to be married, but thou
wilt keep thy wedding with death. Look, I have been
forced to put a great kettle on there, with water in it,
and when they have thee in their power, they will cut thee
to pieces without mercy, will cook thee, and eat thee, for
they are eaters of human flesh. If I do not have com-
passion on thee, and save thee, thou art lost."

Thereupon the old woman led her behind a great
hogshead where she could not be seen. " Be as still as a
mouse," said she, " do not make a sound, or move, or all
will be over with thee. At night, when the robbers are
asleep, we will escape ; I have long waited for an oppor-
tunity.' Hardly was this done, than the godless crew
came home. They dragged with them another young
girl. They were drunk, and paid no heed to her screams
and lamentations. They gave her wine to drink, three
glasses full, one glass of white wine, one glass of red, and
a glass of yellow, and with this her heart burst in twain.
Thereupon they tore off her delicate raiment, laid her on a
table, cut her beautiful body in pieces, and strewed salt
thereon. The poor bride behind the cask trembled and
shook, for she saw right well what fate the robbers had
destined for her. One of them noticed a gold ring on
the little finger of the murdered girl, and as it would not
come off at once, he took an axe and cut the finger off,
but it sprang up in the air, away over the cask and fell
straight into the bride's bosom. The robber took a candle
and wanted to look for it, but could not find it. Then
another of them said, " Hast thou looked behind the great
hogshead ? " But the old woman cried, " Come and get
something to eat, and leave off looking till the morning,
the fi^ger won't run away from you."

166 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 40.

Then the robbers said, " The old woman is right," and
gave up their search, and sat down to eat, and the old
woman poured a sleeping-draught in their wine, so that
they soon lay down in the cellar, and slept and snored.
When the bride heard that, she came out from behind
the hogshead, and had to step over the sleepers, for they
lay in rows on the ground, and great was her terror lest
she should waken one of them. But God helped her, and
she got safely over. The old woman went up with her,
opened the doors, and they hurried out of the murderers'
den with all the speed in their power. The wind had
blown away the strewn ashes, but the peas and lentils
had sprouted and grown up, and showed them the way in
the moonlight. They walked the whole night, until in
the morning they arrived at the mill, and then the
maiden told her father everything exactly as it had
happened.

When the day came when the wedding was to be
celebrated, the bridegroom appeared, and the Miller had
invited all his relations and friends. As they sat ^ at
table, each was bidden to relate something. The bride
sat still, and said nothing. Then said the bridegroom to
the bride, " Come, my darling, dost thou know nothing ?
Eelate something to us like the rest." She replied,
" Then I will relate a dream. I was walking alone through
a wood, and at last I came to a house, in which no living
soul was, but on the wall there was a bird in a cage
which cried,

" Turn back, turn back, young maiden dear,
'Tis a murderer's house you enter here."

And this it cried once more. ' My darling, I only dreamt
this. Then I went through all the rooms, and they
were all empty, and there was something so horrible
about them ! At last I went down into the cellar, and
there sat a very very old woman, whose head shook ; I
asked her, ' Does my bridegroom live in this house ?
She answered, ' Alas, poor child, thou hast got into a
murderer's den, thy bridegroom does live here, but he
will hew thee in pieces, and kill thee, and then he will
cook thee, and eat thee.' My darling, 1 only dreamt this.

Tale 41.] HERR KORBES. 167

But the old woman hid me behind a great hogshead, and,
scarcely was I hidden, when the robbers came home,
dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three
kinds of wines to drink, white, red, and yellow, with
which her heart broke in twain. My darling, I only
dreamt this. Thereupon they pulled off her pretty
clothes, and hewed her fair body in pieces on a
table, and sprinkled them with salt. My darling, I only
dreamt this. And one of the robbers saw that there was
still a ring on her little finger, and as it was hard to
draw off, he took an axe and cut it off, but the finger
sprang up in the air, and sprang behind the great
hogshead, and fell in my bosom. And there is the finger
with the ring !" And with these words she drew it
forth, and showed it to those present.

The robber, who had during this story become as pale
as ashes, leapt up and wanted to escape, but the guests
held him fast, and delivered him over to justice. Then
he and his whole troop were executed for their infamous
deeds.

41.— HERE KOEBES.

There were once a cock and a hen who wanted to take
a journey together. So the cock built a beautiful carriage,
which had four red wheels, and harnessed four mice to it.
The hen seated herself in it with the cock, and they drove
away together. Kot long afterwards they met a cat who
said, " Where are you going ? " The cock replied, " We are
going to the house of Herr Korbes." " Take me with you,"
said the cat. The cock answered, " Most willingly, get
up behind, lest you fall off in front. Take great care
not to dirty my little red wheels. And you little wheels,
roll on, and you little mice pipe out, as we go forth on
our way to the house of Herr Korbes."

After this came a millstone, then an egg, then a duck,
then a pin, and at last a needle, who all seated themselves
in the carriage, and drove with them. When, however,
they reached the house of Herr Korbes, Herr Korbes was

168 GRIMiVl's HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 42.

not tbere. The mice drew the carriage into the bam,
the hen flew with the cock npon a perch. The cat sat
down by the hearth, the duck on the well-pole.* The
egg rolled itself into a towel, the pin stuck itself into the
chair-cushion, the needle jumped on to the bed in the
middle of the pillow, and tlie millstone laid itself over the
door. Then Herr Korbes came home, went to the hearth,
and was about to light the fire, when the cat threw a
quantity of ashes in his face. He ran into the kitchen
in a great hurry to wash it off, and the duck splashed
some water in his face. He wanted to dry it with the
towel, but the egg rolled up against him, broke, and glued
up his eyes. He wanted to rest, and sat down in the
chair, and then the pin pricked him. He fell in a
passion, and threw himself on his bed, but as soon as he
laid his head on the pillow, the needle pricked him, so that
he screamed aloud, and was just going to run out into the
wide world in his rage, but when he came to the house-
door, the millstone leapt down and struck him dead.
Herr Korbes must have been a very wicked man !

42.— THE GODFATHEE.

A POOR man had so many children that he had already
asked every one in the world to be godfather, and when still
another child was born, no one else was left whom he could
invite. He knew not what to do, and, in his perplexity,
he lay down and fell asleep. Then he dreamt that he was
to go outside the gate, and ask the first person who met
him to be godfather. When he awoke, he determined to
obey his dream, and went outside the gate, and asked
the first person who came up to him to be godfather.
The stranger presented him with a little glass of water,
and said, " This is a wonderful water, with it thou canst
heal the sick, only thou must see where Death is standing.
If he is standing by the patient's head, give the patient

* Well-pole, a pole used in a very primitive kind of well, to draw
up and let down the bucket. — Tr.

Tale 42.1 THE GODFATHER. 169

some of the water and he will be healed, but if Death is
standing by his feet, all trouble will be in vain, for the
sick man must die." From this time forth, the man could
always say whether a patient could be saved or not, and
became famous for his skill, and earned a great deal of
money. Once he was called in to the child of the King,
and when he entered, he saw Death standing by the child's
head and cured it with the water, and he did the same a
second time, but the third time Death was standing by
its feet, and then he knew the child was forced to die.

Once the man thought he would visit the godfather, and
tell him how he had succeeded with the water. But when
he entered the house, it was such a strange establishment !
On the first flight of stairs, the broom and shovel were
disputing, and knocking each other about violently. He
asked them, " Where does the godfather live ? " The
broom rej^lied, " One flight of stairs higher up." When
he came to the second flight, he saw a heap of dead
fingers lying. He asked, " Where does the godfather
live ? " One of the fingers replied, " One flight of stairs
higher." On the third flight lay a heap of dead heads,
which again directed him to a flight beyond. On the
fourth flight, he saw fishes on the fire, which frizzled in
the pans and baked themselves. They, too, said, " One
flight of stairs higher." And when he had ascended the
fifth, he came to the door of a room and peeped through
the keyhole, and there he saw the godfather who had a pair
of long horns. When he opened the door and went in,
the godfather got into bed in a great hurry and covered
himself up. Then said the man, " Sir godfather, what a
strange household you have ! When I came to your first
flight of stairs, the shovel and broom were quarrelling,
and beating each other violently."

" How stupid you are ! " said the godfather. " That was
the boy and the maid talking to each other." " But on
the second flight I saw dead fingers lyirg." " Oh, how
silly you are! Those were som3 roots of scorzonera."*
" On the third flight lay a heap of dead men's heads."

* Scorzonera Mspanica, a plant cultivated for the sake of its long
fleshy tapering roots, which are sweet and delicate in flavour, and are
boiled like parbnips, and cooked in other ways. — Tr.

170 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 43.

" Foolisli man, those were cabbages." " On the fourth
flight, I saw fishes in a pan, which were hissing and
baking themselves." When he had said that, the fishes
came and served themselves up. " And when I got to
the fifth flight, I peeped through the keyhole of a door,
and there, godfather, I saw you, and you had long,
long horns." " Oh, that is a lie ! " The man became
alarmed, and ran out, and if he had not, who knows what
the godfather would have done to him.

43.— FEAU TRUDE.

There was once a little girl who was obstinate and
mquisitive, and when her parents told her to do anything,
she did not obey them, so how could she fare well ? One
day she said to her parents, " I have heard so much of
Frau Trude, I will go to her some day. People say that
everything about her does look so strange, and that there
are such odd things in her house, that I have become quite
curious ! " Her parents absolutely forbade her, and said,
*' Frau Trude is a bad woman, who does wicked things,
and if thou goest to her, thou art no longer our child."
But the maiden did not let herself be turned aside by
her parent's prohibition, and still went to Frau Trude.
And when she got to her, Frau Trude said, " Why art
thou so pale ? " " Ah," she replied, and her whole body
trembled, " I have been so terrified at what I have seen."
" What hast thou seen ? " "I saw a black man on your
steps." " That was a collier." " Then I saw a green man."
" That was a huntsman." " After that I saw a blood-
red man." " That was a butcher." " Ah, Frau Trude, I
was terrified ; I looked through the window and saw not
you, but, as I verily believe, the devil himself with a
head of fire." " Oho ! " said she, " then thou hast seen the
witch in her proper costume. I have been waiting for
thee, and wanting thee a long time already ; thou shalt
give me some light." Then she changed the girl into a
block of wood, and threw it into the fire. And when it was
in full blaze she sat down close to it, and warmed herself
by it, and said, " That shines bright for once in a way."

Tale 44.] GODFATHER DEATn. 171

44.— GODFATHEE DEATH.

A POOR man liad twelve children and was forced to work
night and day to give them even bread. When therefore
the thirteenth came into the world, he knew not what to
do in his trouble, but ran out into .the great highway, and
resolved to ask the first person whom he met to be god-
father. The first to meet him was the good God who
already knew what filled his heart, and said to him,
" Poor man, I pity thee. I will hold thy child at its
christening, and will take charge of it and make it happy
on earth." The man said, " Who art thou ? " "I am
God." " Then I do not desire to have thee for a godfather,"
said the man ; " thou givest to the rich, and lea vest the
poor to hunger." Thus spake the man, for he did not
know how wisely God apportions riches and poverty. He
turned therefore away from the Lord, and went farther.
Then the Devil came to him and said, " What seekest thou ?
If thou wilt take me as a godfather for thy child, I will
give him gold in plenty and all the joys of the world as
well." The man asked, " Who art thou ? " "I am the
Devil." " Then I do not desire to have thee for godfather,"
said the man ; " thou deceivest men and leadest them
astray." He went onwards, and then came Death striding
up to him with withered legs, and said, " Take me as god-
father." The man asked, " Who art thou ? " "I am Death,
and I make all equal." Then said the man, " Thou art
the right one, thou takest the rich as well as the poor,
without distinction ; thou shalt be godfather." Death
answered, " I will make thy child rich and famous, for he
who has me for a f liend can lack nothing." The man said,
" Next Sunday is the christening ; be there at the right
time." Death appeared as he had promised, and stood
godfather quite in the usual way.

When the boy had grown up, his godfather one day
appeared and bade him go with him. He led him
forth into a forest, and showed him a herb which grew
there, and said, " Now shalt tbou receive thy godfather's
present. I make thee a celebrated physician. When thou

172 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 44.

art called to a patient, I will always appear to thee. If
I stand by the head of the sick man, thou mayst say
with confidence that thou wilt make him well again, and
if thou givest him of this herb he will recover ; but if I
stand by the patient's feet, he is mine, and thou must say
that all remedies are in vain, and that no physician in the
world could save him. But beware of using the herb
against my will, or it might fare ill with thee."

It was not long before the youth was the most famous
physician in the whole world. " He had only to look at
the patient and he knew his condition at once, and if he
would recover, or must needs die." So they said of him,
and from far and wide people came to him, sent for him
when they had any one ill, and gave him so much money
that he soon became a rich man. Now it so befell that
the King became ill, and the physician was summoned, and
was to say if recovery were possible. But when he came
to the bed, Death was standing by the feet of the sick man,
and the herb did not grow which could save him. " If I
could but cheat Death for once," thought the physician,
" he is sure to take it ill if I do, but, as I am his godson,
he will shut one eye ; I will risk it." He therefore took
up the sick man, and laid him the other way, so that now
Death was standing by his head. Then he gave the King
some of the herb, and he recovered and grew healthy
again. But Death came to the physician, looking very
black and angry, threatened him with his finger, and
said, " Thou hast overreached me ; this time I will pardon
it, as thou art my godson ; but if thou venturest it
again, it will cost thee thy neck, for I will take thee thy-
self away with me."

Soon afterwards the King's daughter fell into a severe
illness. She was his only child, and he wept day and
night, so that he began to lose the sight of his eyes, and
he caused it to be made known that whosoever rescued
her from death should be her husband and inherit the
crown. When the physician came to the sick girl's bed,
he saw Death by her feet. He ought to have remembered
the warning given by his godfather, but he was so infa-
tuated by the great beauty of the King's daughter, and the
happiness of becoming her husband, that he flung all

Tale 44.] GODFATHER DEATH. 173

thought to the winds. He did not see that Death was cast-
ing angry glances on him, that he was raising his hand in
the air, and threatening him with his withered fist. He
raised up the sick gii 1, and placed her head where her
feet had lain. Then be gave her some of the herb, and
instantly her cheeks flushed red, and life stirred afresh
in her.

When Death saw that for a second time he was de-
frauded of his own property, he walked up to the physician
with long strides, and said, " All is over with thee, and
now the lot falls on thee," and seized him so firmly with
his ice-cold hand, that he could not resist, and led him
into a cave below the earth. There he saw how thou-
sands and thousands of candles were burning in countless
rows, some large, others half-sized, others small. Every in-
stant some were extinguished, and others again burnt up,
so that the flames seemed to leap hither and thither in per-
petual change. " See," said Death, " these are the lights of
men's lives. The large ones belong to children, the half-
sized ones to married people in their prime, the little
ones belong to old people ; but children and young folks
likewise have often only a tiny candle." " Show me the
light of my life," said the physician, and he thought that
it would be still very tall. Death pointed to a little end
which was just threatening to go out, and said, " Behold,
it is there." " Ah, dear godfather," said the horrified
physician, " light a new one for me, do it for love of me,
that I may enjoy my life, be King, and the husband of
the King's beautiful daughter." "I cannot," answered
Death, " one must go out before a new one is lighted."
" Then place the old one on a new one, that will go on
burning at once when the old one has come to an end,"
pleaded the physician. Death behaved as if he were going
to fulfil his wish, and took hold of a tall new candle ; but
as he desired to revenge himself, he purposely made a
mistake in fixing it, and the little piece fell down and was
extinguished. Immediately the physician fell on the
ground, and now he himself was in the hands of Death.

174 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 45.

45._THUMBLINa AS JOUENEYMAN.

A CERTAIN tailor had a son, who happened to be small,
and no bigger than a Thumb, and on this account he was
always called Thumbling. He had, however, some courage
in him, and said to his father, " Father, I must and will
go out into the world." " That's right, my son," said the
old man, and took a long darning-needle and made a knob
of sealing-wax on it at the candle, " and there is a, sword
for thee to take with thee on the way." Then the
little tailor wanted to have one more meal with them, and
hopped into the kitchen to see what his lady mother had
cooked for the last time. It was, however, just dished
up, and the dish stood on the hearth. Then he said,
" Mother, what is there to eat to-day ? " "See for thy-
self," said his mother. So Thumbling jumped on to
the hearth, and peeped into the dish, but as he stretched
his neck in too far the steam from the food caught hold of
him, and carried him up the chimney. He rode about in
the air on the steam for a while, until at length he sank
down to the ground again. Now the little tailor was out-
side in the wide world, and he travelled about, and went
to a master in his craft, but the food was not good
enough for him. "Mistress, if you give us no better
food," said Thumbling, "I will go away, and early to-
morrow morning I will write with chalk on the door of
your house, ' Too many potatoes, too little meat ! Farewell,
Mr. Potato-King.' " " What wouldst thou have forsooth,
grasshopper?" said the mistress, and grew angry, and
seized a dish-cloth, and was just going to strike him ; but
my little tailor crept nimbly under a thimble, peeped
out from beneath it, and put his tongue out at the
mistress. She took up the thimble, and wanted to get
hold of him, but little Thumbling hopped into the cloth,
and while the mistress was opening it out and looking
for him, he got into a crevice in the table. " Ho, ho, lady
mistress," cried he, and thrust his head out, and when she
began to strike him he leapt down into the drawer. At
last, however, she caught him and drove him out of the
house.

Tale 45.] THUMBLING AS JOUENEYMAN. 175

The little tailor journeyed on and came to a great forest,
and there he fell in with a band of robbers who had a
design to steal the King's treasure. When they saw the
little tailor, they thougbt, *' A little fellow like that can
creep through a key-hole and serve as picklock to us."
" Hollo," cried one of them, " thou giant Goliath, wilt
thou go to the treasure-chamber with us? Thou canst
slip thyself in and throw out the money." Thumbling
reflected a while, and at length he said " yes," and went
with them to the treasure-chamber. Then he looked at the
doors above and below, to see if there was any crack in
them. It was not long before he espied one which was
broad enough to let him in. He was therefore about to
get in at once, but one of the two sentries who stood before
the door, observed him, and said to the other, " What an
ugly spider is creeping there ; I will kill it." " Let the
poor creature alone," said the other, " it has done thee no
harm." Then Thumbling got safely through the crevice
into the treasure- chamber, opened the window beneath
which the robbers were standing, and threw out to them
one thaler after another. When the little tailor was in
the full swing of his work, he heard the King coming to
inspect his treasure-chamber, and crept hastily into a
hiding-place. The King noticed that several solid thalers
were missing, but could not conceive who could have stolen
them, for locks and bolts were in good condition, and all
seemed well guarded. Then he went away again, and said
to the sentries, " Be on the Avatch, some one is after the
money." When therefore Thumbling recommenced his
labours, they heard the money moving, and a sound of
klink, klink, klink. They ran swiftly in to seize the thief,
but the little tailor, who heard them coming, was still
swifter, and leapt into a corner and covered himself with a
thaler, so that nothing could be seen of him, and at the same
time he mocked the sentries and cried, " Here am I ! " The
sentries ran thither, but as they got there, he had already
hopped into another corner under a thaler, and was cry-
ing, " Ho, ho, here am I ! " The watchmen sprang there
in haste, but Thumbling had long ago got into a third
corner, and was crjdng, " Ho, ho, here am I ! " And
thus he made fools of them, and drove them so long round

176 GRIMM's HOUSEnOLD TALES. [Tale 45.

about the treasure -clianiber that they were weary and
went away. Then by degrees he threw all the thalers out,
despatching the last with all his might, then hopped
nimbly upon it, and flew down with it through the window.
The robbers paid him great compliments. " Thou art a
valiant hero," said they ; " wilt thou be our captain ? "

Thumbling, however, declined, and said he wanted to see
the world first. They now divided the booty, but the
little tailor only asked for a kreuzer because he could not
carry more.

Then he once more buckled on his sword, bade the
robbers good-bye, and took to the road. First, he went to
work with some masters, but he had no liking for that, and
at last he hired himself as man-servant in an inn. The
maids, however, could not endure him, for he saw all that
they did secretly, without their seeing him, and he told
their master and mistress what they had taken off the
plates, and carried away out of the cellar, for themselves.
Then said they, " Wait, and we will pay thee off ! " and
arranged with each other to play him a trick. Soon after-
wards when one of the maids was mowing in the garden,
and saw Thumbling jumping about and creeping up and
down the plants, she mowed him up quickly with the grass,
tied all in a great cloth, and secretly threw it to the
cows. Now amongst them there was a great black one,
who swallowed him down with it without hurting him.
Down below, however, it pleased him ill, for it was quite
dark, neither was any candle burning. When the cow
was being milked he cried,

"Strip, strap, strull.
Will the pail soon be full?"

But the noise of the milking prevented his being under-
stood. After this the master of the house came into the
cow-byre and said, " That cow shall be killed to-morrow."
Then Thumbling was so alarmed that he cried out in a
clear voice, " Let me out first, for I am shut up inside her."
The master heard that quite well, but did not know from
whence the voice came. " Where art thou ? " asked he.
" In the black one," answered Thumbling, but the master
did not understand what that meant, and went out.

Tale 45.] THUMBLING AS JOURNEYMAN. 177

Next morning the cow was killed. Happily Thumbling
did not meet with one blow at the cutting up and chop-
ping ; he got among the sausage-meat. And when the
butcher came in and began his work, he cried out with all
his might, " Don't chop too deep, don't chop too deep, I
am amongst it." No one heard this because of the noise
of the chopping-knife. Now poor Thumbling was in
trouble, but trouble sharpens the wits, and he sprang out
so adroitly between the blows that none of them touched
him, and he got out with a whole skin. But still he could
not get away, there was nothing for it, and he had to let
himself be thrust into a black-pudding with the bits of
bc.con. His quarters there were rather confined, and
besides that he was hung up in the chimney to be smoked,
and there time did hang terribly heavy on his hands.

At length in winter he was taken down again, as
the black-pudding had to be set before a guest. When
the hostess was cutting it in slices, he took care not to
stretch out his head too far lest a bit of it should be
cut off; at last he saw his opportunity, cleared a passage
for himself, and jumped out.

The little tailor, however, would not stay any longer
in a house where he fared so ill, but at once set out on
his journey again. But his liberty did not last long. In
the open country he met with a fox who snapped him up
in a fit of absence. " Hollo, Mr. Fox," cried the little tailor,
*' it is I who am sticking in your throat, set me at liberty
again." " Thou art right," answered the fox. " Thou art
next to nothing for me, but if thou wilt promise me the
fowls in thy father's yard I will let thee go." " With all
my heart," replied Thumbling. " Thou shalt have all the
cocks and hens, that I promise thee." Then the fox let
him go again, and himself carried him home. When the
father once more saw his dear son, he willingly gave the
fox all the fowls which he had. " For this I likewise
bring thee a handsome bit of money," said Thumbling,
and gave his father the kreuzer which he had earned on
his travels.

"But why did the fox get the poor chickens to eat?"
" Oh, you goose, your father would surely love his child
far more than the fowls in the yard ! "

VOL. I. N

178 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 46.

46.— FITCHER'S BIRD.

There was once a wizard who used to take tlie form of
a poor man, and went to houses and begged, and caught
pretty girls. No one knew whither he carried them, for
they were never seen more. One day he appeared before
the door of a man who had three pretty daughters ; he
looked like a poor weak beggar, and carried a basket on
his back, as if he meant to collect charitable gifts in it. He
begged for a little food, and when the eldest daughter
came out and was just reaching him a piece of bread, he
did but touch her, and she was forced to jump into his
basket. Thereupon he hurried away with long strides,
and carried her away into a dark forest to his house,
which stood in the midst of it. Everything in the house was
magnificent; he gave her whatsoever she could possibly
desire, and said, " My darling, thou wilt certainly be
happy with me, for thou hast everything thy heart can wish
for." This lasted a few days, and then he said, "I must
journey forth, and leave thee alone for a short time ; there
are the keys of the house ; thou mayst go everywhere and
look at everything except into one room, which this little
key here opens, and there I forbid thee to go on pain of
death." He likewise gave her an egg and said, " Preserve
the egg carefully for me, and carry it continually about
with thee, for a great misfortune would arise from the
loss of it."

She took the keys and the egg, and promised to obey
him in everything. When he was gone, she went all
round the house from the bottom to the top, and examined
everything. The rooms shone with silver and gold, and
she thougnt she had never seen such great splendour.
At length she came to the forbidden door ; she wished
to pass it by, but curiosity let her have no rest. She
examined the key, it looked just like any other ; she put
it in the kej^hole and turned it a little, and the door sprang
open. But what did she see when she went in ? A great
bloody basin stood in the middle of the room, and therein
lay human beings, dead and hewn to pieces, and hard by

Tale 46.] FITCHER's BIRD. 179

was a block of wood, and a gleaming axe lay upon it.
She was so terribly alarmed that the egg which she held
in her hand fell into the basin. She got it out and washed
the blood off, but in vain, it appeared again in a moment.
She washed and scrubbed, but she could not get it out.

It was not long before the man came back from his
journey, and the first things which he asked for were the
key and the egg. She gave them to him, but she trembled
as she did so, and he saw at once by the red spots that
she had been in the bloody chamber. " Since thou hast
gone into the room against my will," said he, " thou shalt
go back into it against thine own. Thy life is ended."
He threw her down, dragged her thither by her hair, cut
her head off on the block, and hewed her in pieces so that
her blood ran on the ground. Then he threw her into the
basin with the rest.

" Now I will fetch myself the second," said the wizard,
and again he went to the house in the shape of a poor man,
and begged. Then the second daughter brought him a
piece of bread ; he caught her like the first, by simply
touching her, and carried her away. She did not fare
better than her sister. She allowed herself to be led away
by her curiosity, opened the door of the bloody chamber,
looked in, and had to atone for it with her life on the
wizard's return. Then he went and brought the third sister,
but she was clever and crafty. When he had given her the
keys and the egg, and had left her, she first put the egg
away with great care, and then she examined the house,
and at last wxnt into the forbidden room. Alas, what did
she behold! Both her ssters lay there in the basin, cruelly
murdered, and cut in pieces. But she began to gather their
limbs together and put them in order, head, body, arms and
legs. And when nothing further was wanting the limbs
began to move and unite themselves together, and both
the maidens opened their eyes and were once more alive.
Then they rejoiced and kissed and caressed each other.

On his arrival, the man at once demanded the keys
and the egg, and as he could perceive no trace of any
blood on it, he said, " Thou hast stood the test, thou shalt
be my bride." He now had no longer any power over
her, and was forced to do whatsoever she desired. " 0>j,

N 2

180 GPJMM's household tales. [Tale 46.

A^ery well," said she, " thou shalt first take a basketful of
gold to my father and mother, and carry it thyself on thy
back ; in the meantime I will prepare for the wedding.
Then sbe ran to her sisters, whom she had hidden in a little
chamber and said, " The moment has come when I can
save you. The wretch shall himself carry you home again,
but as soon as you are at home send help to me." She put
both of them in a basket and covered them quite over with
gold, so that nothing of them was to be seen, then she called
in the wizard and said to him, " Now carry the basket
away, but I shall look through my little window and watch
to see if thou stoppest on the way to stand or to rest."

The wizard raised the basket on his back and went
away with it, but it weighed him down so heavily that the
perspiration streamed from his face. Then he sat down and
wanted to rest awhile, but immediately one of the girls in
the basket cried, " I am looking through my little window,
and I see that thou art resting. Wilt thou go on at once ? "
He thought his bride was calling that to him ; and got up
on his legs again. Once more he was going to sit down,
but instantly she cried, " I am looking through my little
window, and I see that thou art resting. Wilt thou go on
directly ? " And whenever he stood still, she cried this,
and then he was forced to go onwards, until at last,
groaning and out of breath, he took the basket with the
gold and the two maidens into their parents' house. At
home, however, the bride prepared the marriage-feast, and
sent invitations to the friends of the wizard. Then she
took a skull with grinning teeth, put some ornaments on
it and a wreath of flowers, carried it upstairs to the garret-
window, and let it look out from thence. When all was
ready, she got into a barrel of honey, and then cut the
feather-bed open and rolled herself in it, until she looked
like a wondrous bird, and no one could recognize her.
1 hen she went out of the house, and on her way she met
some of the wedding-guests, who asked,

"O, Fitcher's bird, how com'st thou here?**
♦' I come from Fitcher's house quite near."
" And what may the young bride be doing?*
" From cellar to garret bhe's swept all clean,
And now from the window she's peeping, I ween.**

Tale 47.] THE JQNIPER-TREE. 181

At last she met the bridegroom, who was coming slowly
back. He, like the others, asked,

" O. Fitcher's bird, how com'st thou here?"
"I come from Fitclier's house quite near."
"And what may the youns: bride be doing?
" From cellar to garret she's swept all clean,
And now from the window she's peeping, 1 ween."

The bridegroom looked up, saw the decked-out skull,
thought it was his bride, and nodded to her, greeting her
kindly. But when he and his guests had all gone into tlie
house, the brothers and kinsmen of the bride, who had been
sent to rescue her, arrived. They locked all the doors
of the house, that no one might escape, set fire to it, and
the wizard and all his crew had to burn.

47.— THE JUNIPER-TREE.*

It is now long ago, quite two thousand years, since there
was a rich man who had a beautiful and pious wife, and
they loved each other dearly. They had, however, no
children, though they wished for them very much, and
the woman prayed for them day and night, but still
they had none. Now there was a court-yard in front
of their house in which was a juniper-tree, and one day
in winter the woman was standing beneath it, paring
herself an apple, and while she was paring herself the

* It is difficult to know how to translate Machandelbaum. It
would seem natural to regard it as the popular pronunciation of
Mandelbaum, Almond-tree, and thus render it ; but in Pritzel and
Tessen's " Deutsclien Volksnamen der Pfianzen," Macliandel-bom is
given as " Common Juniper," and so it id in other dictionaries. The
Brothers Gnumi themselves say in tiieir notes to this story, "Machan-
del, nicht etwa Mandel. sondern Wacholder und zwar bedeutend, weil
es ein verjiingender Baum ist und wach so viel als queck, rege,
vi\ js, lebendig, heisst ; an andern Orten heisst es Queckholder,
Reckholder, Juniperus (von junior, jiinger), angelsachs. quicbeam."
Quicbeam or cwicbt-am is, however, not the Juniper, but the wild or
mountain-ash, a tree much better known in folk-lore. Its berries
also were said to have possessed rejuvenating power, and all who ate of
them were glad of heart. — Tb.

182 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 47.

apple slie cut her finger, and the blood fell on the snow.
" Ah," said the woman, and sighed right heavily, and
looked at the blood before her, and was most unhappy,
*' ah, if I had but a child as red as blood and as white as
snow ! "* And while she thus spake, she became quite
happy in her mind, and felt just as if that were going to
happen. Then she went into the house, and a month
went by and the snow was gone, and two months, and
then everything was green, and three months, and then
all the flowers came out of the earth, and four months,
and then all the trees in the wood grew thicker, and the
green branches were all closely entwined, and the birds
sang until the wood resounded and the blossoms fell from
the^rees, then the fifth month passed away and she stood
under the juniper-tree, which smelt so sweetly that her
heart leapt, and she fell on her knees and was beside
herself with joy, and when the sixth month was oyer the
fruit was large and fine, and then she was quite still, and
the seventh month she snatched at the juniper-berries and
ate them greedily, then she grew sick and sorrowful, then
the eighth month passed, and she called her husband to
her, and wept and said, " If I die, then bury me beneath
the juniper-tree." Then she was quite comforted and
happy until the next month was over, and then she had a
child as white as snow and as red as blood, and when she
beheld it she was so delighted that she died.

Then her husband buried her beneath the juniper-tree,
and he began to weep sore ; after some time he was more
at ease, and though he still wppt he could bear it, and
after some time longer he took another wife.

By the second wife he had a daughter, but the first
wife's child was a little son, and he was as red as blood and
as white as snow. When the w^oman looked at her daughter
she loved her very much, but then she looked at the little
boy and it seemed to cut her to the heart, for the thought

* The simile here used occurs likewise in the " Ballad of the Gay
Goshawk," in the Border minstrelsy :

« The red that's on my true love's cheek,
Is like blood-drops upon the snaw ;
The white that is on her breast so bare,
Like the down o' the white sea-maw." — ^Tb.

i

Tale 47.] THE JUNIPER-TREE. 183

came into her mind that he would always stand in her
way, and she was for ever thinking how she could get all
the fortune for her daughter, and the Evil One filled her
mind with this till she was quite wroth with the little
boy, and slapped him here and cuffed him there, until the
unhappy child was in continiial terror, for when he came
out of school he had no peace in any place.

One day the woman had gone upstairs to her room, and
her little daughter went up too, and said, " Mother, give
me an apple." " Yes, my child," said the woman, and gave
her a fine apple out of the chest, but the chest had a great
heavy lid with a great sharp iron lock. " Mother," said
the little daughter, "is brother not to have one too?"
This made the woman angry, but she said, " Yes, when he
comes out of school." And when she saw from the window
that he was coming, it was just as if the Devil entered
into her, and she snatched at the apple and took it away
again from her daughter, and said, " Thou shalt not have
one before thy brother." Then she threw the apple into
the chest, and shut it. Then the little boy came in at the
door, and the Devil made her say to him kindly, " My son,
wilt thou have an apple ? " and she looked so wickedly at
him. " Mother," said the little bo}^, " how dreadful you
look ! Yes, give me an apple." Then it seemed to her
as if she were forced to say to him, " Come with me," and
she opened the lid of the chest and said, " Take out an
apple for thyself," and while the little boy was stooping
inside, the Devil prompted her, and crash ! she shut the
lid down, and his head flew off" and fell among the red
apples. Then she was overwhelmed with terror, and
thought, " If I could but make them think that it was
not done by me ! " So she went upstairs to her room to
her chest of drawers, and took a white handkerchief out of
the top drawer, and set the head on the neck again, and
folded the handkerchief so that nothing could be seen, and
she set him on a chair in front of the door, and put the
apple in his hand.

After this Marlinchen came into the kitchen to her
mother, who was standing by the fire with a pan of hot
water before her which she was constantly stirring round.
*' Mother," said Marlinchen, " brother is sitting at the door,

184 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 47.

and he looks quite white, and has an apple in his hand. I
asked him to give me the apple, but he did not answer
me, and I was quite frightened." " Go back to him,"
said her mother, " and if he will not answer thee, give
him a box on the ear." So Marlinchen went to him and
said, " Brother, give me the apple." But he was silent,
and she gave him a box on the ear, on which his head
fell down. Marlinchen was terrified, and began crying
and screaming, and ran to her mother, and said, " Alas,
mother, I have knocked my brother's head off' " and she
wept and wept and could not be comforted. " Marlinchen,"
said the mother, "what hast thou done? but be quiet
and let no one know it ; it cannot be helped now, we will
make him into black-puddings." Then the mother took
the little boy and chopped him in pieces, put him into
the pan and made him into black-puddings ; but Marlin-
chen stood by weeping and weeping, and all her tears
fell into the pan and there was no need of any salt.

Then the father came home, and sat down to dinner
and said, " But where is my son ? " And the mother
served up a great dish of black-puddings, and Marlinchen
wept and could not leave off. Then the father again
said, " But where is my son ? " " Ah," said the mother,
" he has gone across the country to his mother's great
uncle ; he will stay there awhile." " And what is he
going to do there ? He did not even say good-bye to me."

*' Oh, he wanted to go, and asked me if he might stay
six weeks, he is well taken care of there." " Ah," said
the man, " I feel so unhappy lest all should not be right.
He ought to have said good-bye to me." With that he
began to eat and said, " Marlinchen, why art thou
crying ? Thy brother will certainly come back." Then
he said, " Ah, wife, how delicious this food is, give me
some more." And the more he ate the more he wanted
to have, and he said, " Give me some more, you shall have
none of it. It seems to me as if it were all mine." And
he ate and ate and threw all the bones under the table,
until he had finished the whole. But Marlinchen went
away to her chest of drawers, and took her best silk
handkerchief out of the bottom drawer, and got all the
bones from beneath the table, and tied them up in her

Tale 47.] THE JUNIPEK-TREE. 185

silk handkerchief, and carried them outside the door,
weeping tears of blood. Then the jimip(>r-tree began to
stir itself, and the branches parted asunder, and moved
together again, just as if some one was rejoicing and
clapping his hands. At the same time a mist seemed to arise
from the tree, and in the centre of this mist it burned
like a fire, and a beautiful bird flew out of the fire singing
magnificently, and he flew high up in the air, and when
he was gone, the juniper-tree was just as it had been
before, and the handkerchief with the bones was no longer
there. Marlinchen, however, was as gay and happy as if
her brother were still alive. And she went merrily into
the house, and sat down to dinner and ate.

But the bird flew away and lighted on a goldsmith's
house, and began to sing,

"My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me,
My sister, little Marlinchen,
Gathered to,2;ether all my bones.
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!*

The goldsmith was sitting in his workshop making a
gold chain, when he heard the bird which was sitting sing-
ing on his roof, and very beautiful the song seemed to him.
He stood up, but as he crossed the threshold he lost one of
his slippers. But he went away right up the middle of
the street with one shoe on and one sock ; he had his
aproQ on, and in one hand he had the gold chain and in the
other the pincers, and the sun was shining brightly on
the street. Then he went right on and stood still, and
said to the bird, " Bird," said he then, " how beautifully
thou canst sing ! Sing me that piece again." " No," said
the bird, " I'll not sing it twice for nothing ! Give me
the golden chain, and then I will sing it again for thee."
"There," said the goldsmith, "there is the golden chain
for thee, now sing me that song again." Then the bird
came and took the golden chain in his right claw, and
went and sat in front of the goldsmith, and sang,

"My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me,

186 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 47. J

My sister, little Marlinchen,

Gatliered together all my bones,

Tied them in a silken handkerchief,

Laid tliem beneatli the juniper-tree,

Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I ! "

Then the bird flew away to a shoemaker, and lighted
on his roof, and sang,

"My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me,
My sister, little Marlinchen,
Gatliered together all my bones.
Tied them in a silken handkerchief.
Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am T!"

The shoemaker heard that and ran out of doors in his
shirt sleeves, and looked np at his roof, and was forced to
hold his hand before his eyes lest the sun should blind
him. "Bird," said he, "how beautifully thou canst
sing ! " Then he called in at his door, " Wife, just come
outside, there is a bird, look at that bird, he just can sing
well." Then he called his daughter and children, and
apprentices, boys and girls, and they all came up the
street and looked at the bird and how beautiful he was,
and what fine red and green feathers he had, and how
like real gold his neck was, and how the eyes in his head
shone like stars. " Bird," said the shoemaker, " now sing
me that song again." " Nay," said the bird, " I do not
sing twice for nothing ; thou must give me something."
" Wife," said the man, " go to the garret, upon the top
shelf there stands a pair of red shoes, bring them down."
Then the wife went and brought the shoes. "There,
bird," said the man, "now sing me that piece again."
Then the bird came and took the shoes in his left claw,
and flew back on the roof, and sang, J

"My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me.
My sister, little Marlinchen,
Gathered together all my bones,
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am II'*

Tale 47.] THE JUNIPER-TREE. 187

And when he had sung the whole he flew away. In
his right claw he had the chain and the shoes in his left,
and he flew far away to a mill, and the mill went " klipp
klapp, klipp klapp, klipp klapp," and in the mill sat
twenty miller's men hewing a stone, and cutting, hick
hack, hick hack, hick hack, and the mill went klipp
klapp, klipp klapp, klipp klapp. Then the bird went
and sat on a lime-tree which stood in front of the mill,
and sang,

"My mother she killed me,"

Then one of them stopped working,

" My father he ate me."

Then two more stopped working and listened to that,

"My sister, little Marlinchen,'*

Then four more stopped,

"Gathered together all my bones.
Tied them in a silken handkerchief/*

Now eight only were hewing,

" Laid them beneath "
Now only five,

" The juniper- tree,"
And now only one,

" Kywitt, ky witt, what a beautiful bird am I ! "

Then the last stopped also, and heard the last words.
" Bird," said he, " how beautifully thou singest ! Let me,
too, hear that. Sing that once more for me."

*' Nay," said the bird, " I will not sing twice for
nothing. Give me the millstone, and then I will sing it
again."

"Yes," said he, "if it belonged to me only, thou
shouldst have it."

" Yes," said the others, " if he sings again he shall have
it." Then the bird came down, and the twenty millers
all set to work with a beam and raised the stone up.
And the bird stuck his neck through the hole, and put

188 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 47.

the stone on as if it were a collar, and flew on to the tree
again, and sang,

" My mother she killed me,
My father he ate me,
My sister, little Marlinchen,
Gathered together all my bones.
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!**

And when he had done singing, he spread his wings,
and in his right claw he had the chain, and in his left
the shoes, and round his neck the millstone, and he flew
far away to his father's house.

In the room sat the father, the mother, and Marlinchen
at dinner, and the father said, " How light-hearted I feel,
how happy I am ! " " Nay," said the mother, " I feel so
uneasy, just as if a heavy storm were coming." Marlin-
chen, however, sat weeping and weeping, and then came
the bird flying, and as it seated itself on the roof the
father said, "Ah, I feel so truly happy, and the sun is
shining so beautifully outside, I feel just as if I were
about to see some old friend again." " Nay," said the
woman, " I feel so anxious, my teeth chatter, and 1 seem
to have fire in my veins." And she tore her stays open,
but Marlinchen sat in a corner crying, and held her plate
before her eyes and cried till it was quite wet. Then the
bird sat on the juniper-tree, and sang,

" My mother she killed me,"

Then the mother stopped her ears, and shut her eyes,
and would not see or hear, but there was a roaring in her
ears like the most violent storm, and her eyes burnt and
flashed like lightning,

"My father he ate me,"

"Ah, mother," says the man, "that is a beautiful bird !
He sings so splendidly, and the sun shines so warm, and
there is a smell just like cinnamon."

"My sister, Marlinchen,"
Then Marlinchen laid her head on her knees and wept

Tale 47.] THE JUNIPER-TREE. 189

without ceasing, but the man said, " I am going out, I
must see the bird quite close." " C^h, don't go," said the
woman, "I feel as if the whole house were shaking and
on fire." But the man went out and looked at the bird :

" Gathered together all my bones,
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,
Laid them under the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!*'

On this the bird let the golden chain fall, and it fell
exactly round the man's neck, and so exactly round it that
it fitted beautifully. Then he went in and said, " Just
look what a fine bird that is, and what a handsome gold
chain he has given me, and how pretty he is ! " But the
woman was terrified, and fell down on the floor in the
room, and her cap fell off her head. Then sang the bird
once more,

" My mother she killed me,"

" Would that I were a thousand feet beneath the earth
so as not to hear that ! "

*' My father, he ate me,"

Then the woman fell down again as if dead.

"My sister, little Marlinchen."

*' Ah," said Marlinchen, " I too will go out and see if
the bird will give me anything," and she went out.

"Gathered together all my bones,
Tied them in a silken handkerchief,"

Then he threw down the shoes to her.

"Laid them beneath the juniper-tree,
Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I ! "

Then she was light-hearted and joj^ous, and she put on
the new red shoes, and danced and leaped into the house.
" Ah," said she, " I was so sad when I went out and now
I am so light-hearted ; that is a splendid bird, he has
given me a pair of red shoes ! " " Well," said the woman,
and sprang to her feet and her hair stood up like flames
of fire, " I feel as if the world were coming to an end ! I,

190 GEIMm's household tales. [Tale 48.

too, will go out and see if my heart feels lighter." And as
she went out at the door, crash ! the bird threw down the
millstone on her head, and she was entirely crushed by
it. The father and Marlinchen heard what had happened
and went out, and smoke, flames and fire were rising from
the place, and when that was over, there stood the little
brother, and he took his father and Marlinchen by the
hand, and all three were right glad, and they went into
the house to dinner, and ate.

48.— OLD SULTAN.

A FARMER once had a faithful dog called Sultan, who had
grown old, and lost all his teeth, so that he could no
longer hold anything fast. One day the farmer was
standing with his wife before the house-door, and said,
" To-morrow I intend to shoot Old Sultan, he is no longer
of any use."

His wife, who felt pity for the faithful beast, answered,
" He has served us so long, and been so faithful, that we
might well give him his keep."

" Eh ! what ? " said the man. " You are not very sharp.
He has not a tooth left in his mouth, and not a thief is
afraid of him ; now he may be off. If he has served us, he
has had good feeding for it."

The poor dog, who was lying stretched out in the sun
not far off, had heard everything, and was sorry that the
morrow was to be his last day. He had a good friend,
the wolf, and he crept out in the evening into the forest
to him, and complained of the fate that awaited him.
*' Hark ye, gossip," said the wolf, " be of good cheer, I
will help you out of your trouble. I have thought of
something. To-morrow, early in the morning, your master
is going with his wife to make hay, and they will take
their little child with them, for no one will be left behind
in the house. They are wont, during work-time, to lay
the child under the hedge in the shade ; you lay yourself
there too, just as if you wished to guard it. Then I will

Tale 48.] OLD SULTAN. 191

come ont of the wood, and carry oft' the child. You must
rush swiftly after me, as if you would seize it again
from me. I will let it fall, and you will take it back to
its parents, who will think that you have saved it, and
will be far too grateful to do you any harm ; on the
contrary, you will be in high favour, and they will never
let you want for anything again."

The plan pleased the dog, and it was carried out just as
it was arranged. The father screamed when he saw the
Wolf running across the field with his child, but when
Old Sultan brought it back then he was full of joy, and
stroked him and said, " Not a hair of yours shall be hurt,
you shall eat my bread free as long as you live." And to
his wife he said, " Go home at once and make Old Sultan
some bread-sop that he will not have to bite, and bring
the pillow out of my bed, I will give him that to lie
upon."

Henceforward Old Sultan was as well oft" as he could
wish to be.

Soon afterwards the wolf visited him, and was pleased
that everything had succeeded so well. " But, gossip,"
said he, " you will just wink an eye if when I have a
chance I carry off one of your master's fat sheep." " Do
not reckon upon that," answered the dog ; " I will re-
main true to my master ; I cannot agree to that." The
wolf, who thought that this could not be spoken in
earnest, came creeping about in the night and was going
to take away the sheep. But the farmer, to whom the
faithful Sultan had told the wolf's plan, caught him and
dressed his hide soundly with the flail. The wolf had
to pack off, but he cried out to the dog, " Wait a bit, you
scoundrel, you shall pay for this."

The next morning the wolf sent the boar to challenge
the dog to come out into the forest so that they might
settle the affair. Old Sultan could find no one to stand
by him but a cat with only three legs, and as they went
out together the poor cat limped along, and at the same
time stretched ont her tail into the air with pain.

The wolf and his friend were already on the spot ap-
pointed, but when they saw their enemy coming they
thought that he was bringing a sabre with him, for they

192 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 49.

mistook tlie outstretched tail of the cat for one. And
when the poor beast hopped on its three legs, they
could only think every time that it was picking up a
stone to throw at them. So they were both afraid ; the
wild boar crept into the under-wood and the wolf
jumped up a tree.

The dog and the cat, when they came up, wondered
that there was no one to be seen. The wild boar, how-
ever, had not been able to hide himself altogether ; and
one of his ears was still to be seen. Whilst the cat was
looking carefully about, the boar moved his ear ; the cat,
who thought it was a mouse moving there, jumped upon
it and bit it hard. The boar made a fearful noise and
ran away, crying out, " The guilty one is up in the tree."
The dog and cat looked up and saw the wolf, who was
ashamed of having shown himself so timid, and made
friends with the dog.

49.— THE SIX SWANS.

Once upon a time, a certain King was hunting in a great
forest, and he chased a wild beast so eagerly that none of
his attendants could follow him. When evening drew
near he stopped and looked around him, and then he saw
that he had lost his way. He sought a way out, but could
find none. Then he perceived an aged woman with ahead
which nodded perpetually, who came towards him, but she
was a witch. " Good woman," said he to her, " Can you not
show me the way through the forest ? " " Oh, yes, Lord
Kino-," she answered, " that I certainly can, but on one
condition, and if you do not fulfil that, you will never get
out of the forest, and will die of hunger in it."

" What kind of condition is it ? " asked the King.

" I have a daughter," said the old woman, " who is as
beautiful as any one in the world, and well deserves to be
your consort, and if you will make her your Queen, I will
show you the way out of the forest." In the anguish of
his heart the King consented, and the old woman led him

Tale 49.] THE SIX SWANS. 19

o

to her little hut, where her daughter was sitting by the
fire. She received the King as if she had been expecting
him, and he saw that she was very beautiful, but still she
did not please him, and he could not look at her without
secret horror. After he had taken the maiden up on his
horse, the old woman showed him the way, and the King
reached his royal palace again, where the wedding was
celebrated.

The King had already been married once, and had by
his first wife, seven children, six boys and a girl, whom he
loved better than anything else in the world. As he now
feared that the step-mother might not treat them well,
and even do them some injury, he took them to a lonely
castle which stood in the midst of a forest. It lay so con-
cealed, and the way was so difficult to find, that he him-
self would not have found it, if a wise woman had not
given him a ball of yarn with wonderful properties.
When he threw it down before him, it unrolled itself and
showed him his path. The King, however, went so fre-
quently away to his dear children that the Queen observed
his absence ; she was curious and wanted to know what
he did when he was quite alone in the forest. She gave
a great deal of money to his servants, and they betrayed
the secret to her, and told her likewise of the ball which
alone could point out the way. And now she knew no
rest until she had learnt where the King kept the ball of
yarn, and then she made little shirts of white silk, and as
she had learnt the art of witchcraft from her mother, she
sewed a charm inside them. And once when the King had
ridden forth to hunt, she took the little shirts and went
into the forest, and the ball showed her the way. The
children, who saw from a distance that some one was
approaching, thought that their dear father was coming
to them, and full of joy, ran to meet him. Then she threw
one of the little shirts over each of them, and no sooner
had the shirts touched their bodies than they were changed
into swans, and flew away over the forest. The Queen
went home quite delighted, and thought she had got rid
of her step-children, but the girl had not run out with her
brothers, and the Queen knew nothing about her. Next
day the King went to visit his children, but he found no one
VOL. I. 0

194 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 49.

but the little girl. " Where are thy brothers ? " asked the
King. "Alas, dear father," she answered, "they have
gone away and left me alone ! " and she told him that she
had seen from her little window how her brothers had
flown away over the forest in the shape of swans, and
she showed him the feathers, which they had let fall in
the courtyard, and which she had picked up. The King
mourned, but he did not think that the Queen had done
this wicked deed, and as he feared that the girl would
also be stolen away from him, he wanted to take her away
with him. But she was afraid of her step-mother, and
entreated the King to let her stay just this one night more
in the forest castle.

The poor girl thought, " I can no longer stay here.
I will go and seek my brothers." And when night came,
she ran away, and went straight into the forest. She
walked the whole night long, and next day also without
stopping, until she could go no farther for weariness.
Then she saw a forest-hut, and went into it, and found
a room with six little beds, but she did not venture
to get into one of them, but crept under one, and lay
down on the hard ground, intencliug to pass the night
there. Just before sunset, however, she heard a rustling,
and saw six swans come flying in at the window. They
alighted on the ground and blew at each other, and
blew all the feathers oif, and their swan's skins stripped
ofi" like a shirt. Then the maiden looked at them and
recognized her brothers, was glad and crept forth from
beneath the bed. The brothers were not less delighted
to see their little sister, but their joy was of short dura-
tion. " Here canst thou not abide," they said to her.
" This is a shelter for robbers, if they come home and find
thee, they will kill thee." " But can you not protect me ? "
asked the little sister. "No,' they rei^lied, "only for
one quarter of an hour each evening can we lay aside our
swan's skins and have during that time our human form ;
after that, we are once more turned into swans." The
little sister we^Dt and said, " Can you not be set free ? '*
" Alas, no," they 'answered, " the conditions are too hard !
For six years thou mayst neither speak nor laugh, and in
that time thou must sew together six little shirts of star-

Tale 49.] THE SIX SWANS. 195

wort for ITS. And if one single word falls from thy lips,
all thy work Avill be lost." And when the brothers had
said this, the quarter of an hour was over, and they flew
out of the \\ indow again as swans.

The maiden, however, firmly resolved to deliver her
brothers, even if it should cost her her life. She left the
hut, went into the midst of the forest, seated herself on
a tree, and there passed the night. Next morning she
went out and gathered starwort and began to sew.
She could not speak to any one, and she had no inclination
to laugh; she sat there and looked at nothing but her
work. When she had already spent a long time there
it came to pass that the King of the country was huntino-
in the forest, and his huntsmen came to the tree on
which the maiden was sitting. They called to her and
said, " Who art thou ? " But she made no answer. " Come
down to us," said they. "We will not do thee any
harm." She only shook her head. As they pressed her
further with questions she threw her golden necklace down
to them, and thought to content them thus. They, hoAv-
ever, did not cease, and then she threw her girdle down to
them, and as this also was to no purpose, her garters, and
by degrees everything that she had on that she could do
without until she had nothing left but her shift. The
huntsmen, however, did not let themselves be turned aside
by that, but climbed the tree and fetched the maiden down
and led her before the King. The King asked, " Who art
thou? What art thou doing on the tree?" But she did
not answer. He put the question in every language that
he knew,_ but she remained as mute as a fish. As she w^as
so beautiful, the King's heart was touched, and he was
smitten with a great love for her. He put his mantle on her,
took her before him on his horse, and carried her to his
castle. Then he caused her to be dressed in rich garments,
and she shone in her beauty like bright daylight, but no
word could be drawn from her. He placed her by his side
at table, and her modest bearing and courtesy pleased him
so much that he said, " She is the one whom I wish to
marry, and no other woman in the world." And after
some days he united himself to her.

The King, however, had a wicked mother who was dis-

0 2

196 GEIMM'S household tales. [Tale 49.

satisfied with this marriage and spoke ill of the young
Queen. " "Who knows," said she, " from whence the creature
who can't speak, comes ? She is not worthy of a king ! "
After a year had passed, when the Queen brought her first
child into the world, the old woman took it away from her,
and smeared her mouth with blood as she slept. Then she
went to the King and accused the Queen of being a man-
eater. The King would not believe it, and would not suffer
any one to do her any injurj^ She, however, sat continu-
ally sewing at the shirts, and cared for nothing else. The
next time, when she again bore a beautiful boy, the false
step-mother used the same treachery, but the King could
not bring himself to give credit to her words. He said,
" She is too pious and good to do anything of that kind ;
if she were not dumb, and could defend herself, her inno-
cence would come to light." But when the old woman
stole away the newly-born child for the third time, and
accused the Queen, who did not utter one word of defence,
the King could do no otherwise than deliver her over to
justice, and she was sentenced to suffer death by fire.

When the day came for the sentence to be executed, it
was the last day of the six j^ears during which she was not
to speak or laugh, and she had delivered her dear brothers
from the power of the enchantment. The six shirts were
ready, only the left sleeve of the sixth was wanting. When,
therefore, she was led to the stake, she laid the shirts on
her arm, and when she stood on high and the fire was just
going to be lighted, she looked around and six swans came
flying through the air towards her. Then she saw that
her deliverance was near, and her heart leapt with joy.
The swans swept towards her and sank down so that she
could throw the shirts over them, and as they were
touched by them, their swan's skins fell off, and her
brothers stood in their own bodily form before her, and
were vigorous and handsome. The youngest only lacked
his left arm, and had in the place of it a swan's wing on his
shoulder. They embraced and kissed each other, and the
Queen went to the King, who was greatly moved, and she
began to speak and said, " Dearest husband, now I may
speak and declare to thee that I am innocent, and falsely
accused." And she told him of the treachery of the old

Tale 50.] LITTLE BRIAR-ROSE. 197

woman who had taken away her three children and hidden
them. Then to the great joy of the King they were brought
thither, and as a punishment, the wicked step-mother was
bound to the stake, and burnt to ashes. But the King and
the Queen with their six brothers lived many years in
happiness and peace.

50.— LITTLE BEIAR-ROSE.

A LONG time ago there were a King and Queen who said
every day, " Ah, if only we had a child ! " but they never
had one. But it happened that once when the Queen was
bathing, a frog crept out of the water on to the land, and
said to her, " Your wish shall be fulfilled ; before a year
has gone by you shall have a daughter."

What the frog had said came true, and the Queen had
a little girl who was so pretty that the King could not
contain himself for joy, and ordered a great feast. He
invited not only his kindred, friends and acquaintance,
but also the Wise Women, in order that they might be
kind and well-disposed towards the child. There were
thirteen of them in his kingdom, but, as he had only
twelve golden plates for them to eat out of, one of them
had to be left at home.

The feast was held with all manner of splendour, and
when it came to an end the Wise Women bestowed their
magic gifts upon the baby : one gave virtue, another
beauty, a third riches, and so on with everything in the
world that one can wish for.

When eleven of them had made their promises, suddenly
the thirteenth came in. She wished to aveno;e herself
for not having been invited, and without greeting, or
even looking at any one, she cried with a loud voice,
" The King's daughter shall in her fifteenth year prick
herself with a spindle, and fall down dead." And,
without sa^dng a word more, she turned round and left
the room.

They were all shocked; but the twelfth, whose good
wish still remained unspoken, came forward, and as she

198 GPJMM's household tales. [Tale 50.

could not undo the evil sentence, bnt only soften it, she
said, " It shall not be death, but a deep sleep of a hundred
3^ears, into which the princess shall fall."

The King, who would fain keep his dear child from the
misfortune, gave orders that every spindle in the whole
kingdom should be burnt. Meanwhile the gifts of the Wise
Women were plenteously fulfilled on the young girl, for
tihe was so beautiful, modest, good-natured, and wise, that
every one who saw her was bound to love her.

It happened that on the very day when she was fifteen
years old, the King and Queen were not at home, and the
maiden was left in the palace quite alone. So she went
round into all sorts of places, looked into rooms and bed-
chambers just as she liked, and at last came to an old
tower. She climbed up the narrow winding-staircase, and
reached a little door. A rusty key was in the lock, and
when she turned it the door sprang open, and there in a
little room sat an old woman with a spindle, busily spin-
ning her flax.

" Good day, old dame," said the King's daughter ;
" what are you doing there ? " "I am spinning," said the
old woman, and nodded her head. " What sort of thing
is that, that rattles round so merrily?" said the girl, and
she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But scarcely
had she touched the spindle when the magic decree was
fulfilled, and she pricked her finger with it.

And, in the very moment when she felt the prick, she
fell down upon the bed that stood there, and lay in a deep
sleep. And this sleep extended over the whole palace ;
the King and Queen who had just come home, and had
entered the great hall, began to go to sleep, and the
whole of the court with them. The horses, too, went
to sleep in the stable, the dogs in the yard, the pigeons
upon the roof, the flies on the wall ; even the fire that
was flaming on the hearth became quiet and slept, the
roast meat left oif frizzling, and the cook, who was just
going to pull the hair of the scullery boy, because he had
forgotten something, let him go, and went to sleep. And
the wind fell, and on the trees before the castle not a leaf
moved again.

But round about the castle there began to grow a

Tale 50.] LITTLE BRIAR-ROSE. 199

hedge of thorns, which every j^ear became higher, and at
last grew close up round the castle and all over it, so that
there was nothing of it to be seen, not even the flag upon
the roof. But the story of the beautiful sleeping " i^riar-
rose," for so the princess was named, went about the
country, so that from time to time kings' sons came and
tried to get through the thorny hedge into the castle.

But they found it impossible, for the thorns held fast
together, as if they had hands, and the youths were caught
in them, could not get looisc again, and died a miserable
death.

After long, long years a King's son came again to that
country, and heard an old man talking about the thorn-
hedge, and that a castle was said to stand behind it in
which a wonderfully beautiful princess, named Briar-rose,
had been asleep for a hundred years ; and that the Kino-
and Queen and the whole court were asleep likewise. He
had heard, too, from his grandfather, that many kings'
sons had already come, and had tried to get through the
thorny hedge, but they had remained sticking fast in it,
and had died a pitiful death. Then the youth said, " I am
not afraid, I will go and see the beautiful Briar-rose."
The good old man might dissuade him as he would, he did
not listen to his words.

But by this time the hundred years had just passed,
and the day had come when Briar-rose was to awake ao^ain.
When the King's son came near to the thorn-hedge, it was
nothing but large and beautiful flowers, which parted from
each other of their own accord, and let him pass unhurt,
then they closed again behind him like a hedge. In the
castle -yard he saw the horses and the spotted hounds
lying asleep; on the roof sat the pigeons with their
heads under their wings. And when he entered the house,
the flies were asleep upon the wall, the cook in the
kitchen was still holding out his hand to seize the boj^
and the maid w^as sitting by the black hen which she.
was going to pluck.

He went on farther, and in the great hall he saw
the whole of the court lying asleep, and up by the
throne lay the King and Queen.

Then^he went on still farther, and all was so quiet that a

200 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 51.

breath could be heard, and at last he came to the tower,
and opened the door into the little room where Briar-rose
was sleeping. There she lay, so beautiful that he could
not turn his eyes away ; and he stooped down and gave her
a kiss. But as soon as he kissed her, Briar-rose opened
her eyes and awoke, and looked at him quite sweetly.

Then they went down together, and the King awoke,
and the Queen, and the whole court, and looked at each
other in great astonishment. And the horses iu the court-
yard stood up and shook themselves ; the hounds jumped
up and wagged their tails ; the pigeons upon the roof pulled
out their heads from under their wings, looked round, and
flew into the open country ; the flies on the wall crept
again ; the fire in the kitchen burned up and flickered
and cooked the meat ; the joint began to turn and frizzle
again, and the cook gave the boy such a box on the ear
that he screamed, and the maid plucked the fowl ready
for the spit.

And then the marriage of the King's son with Briar-
rose was celebrated with all splendour, and they lived
contented to the end of their days.

61.— rU:N^DEVOGEL.*

There was once a forester who went into the forest
hunt, and as he entered it he heard a sound of screamin|^
as if a little child were there. He followed the sound,
and at last came to a high tree, and at the top of this
a little child was sitting, for the mother had fallen asleej
under the tree with the child, and a bird of prey ha(
seen it in her arms, had flown down, snatched it away, an(
set it on the high tree.

The forester climbed up, brought the child down, am
thought to himself, " Thou wilt take him home with thee,|
and bring him up with thy Lina." He took it home, there-
fore, and the two children grew up together. The one,
however, which he had found on a tree was called Funde-

* i.e., Bird-foundling.

TAI.E 51.] FUNDEVOGEL. 201

vogel, because a bird had carried it away. Fundevogel
and Lina loved each other so dearly that when they did
not see each other they were sad.

The forester, however, had an old cook, who one
evening took two pails and began to fetch water, and did
not go once only, but many times, out to the spring.
Lina saw this and said, " Hark you, old Sanna, why are
you fetching so much water?" " If thou wilt never repeat it
to any one, I will tell thee why." So Lina said, no, she
would never repeat it to any one, and then the cook said,
" Early to-morrow morning, when the forester is out
hunting, I will heat the water, and when it is boiling in
the kettle, I will throw in Fundevogel, and will boil him
in it."

Betimes next morning the forester got up and went out
hunting, and when he was gone the children were still in
bed. Then Lina said to Fundevogel, " If thou wilt never
leave me, I too will never leave thee." Fundevoscel said.
" Neither now, nor ever will I leave thee." Then said
Lina, " Then will I tell thee. Last night, old Sanna
carried so many buckets of water into the house that I
asked her why she was doing that, and she said that if I
would promise not to tell any one she would tell me, and
I said I would be sure not to tell any one, and she said
that early to-morrow morning when father was out hunt-
ing, she would set on the kettle full of water, throw
thee into it and boil thee ; but we will get ujp quickly,
dress ourselves, and go away together."

The two children therefore got up, dressed themselves
quickly, and went away. When the water in the kettle
was boiling, the cook went into the bed-room to fetch
Fundevogel and throw him into it. But when she came in,
and went to the beds, both the children were gone. Then
she was terribly alarmed, and she said to herself, " What
shall I say now when the forester comes home and sees
that the children are gone? They must be followed
instantly to get them back again."

Then the cook sent three servants after them, who
were to run and overtake the children. The children,
however, were sitting outside the forest, and when they
saw from afar the three servants running, Lina said to

202 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 51.

Fundevogel, " Never leave me, and I will never leave tliee.'*
Fundevogel said, " Neither now, nor ever." Then said
Lina, " Do thou become a rose-tree, and I the rose upon
it." When the three servants came to the forest, nothing
was there but a rose-tree and one rose on it, but the
children were nowhere. Then said the}^ " There is
nothing to be done here," and they went home and told
the cook that they had seen nothing in the forest but a
little rose-bush with one rose on it. Then the old cook
scolded and said, " You simpletons, you should have cut
the rose-bush in two, and have broken off the rose and
brought it home with you ; go, and do it at once." They
had therefore to go out and look for the second time.
The children, however, saw them coming from a distance.
Then Lina said, " Fundevogel, never leave me, and I will
never leave thee." Fundevogel said, " Neither now, nor
ever." Said Lina, " Then do thou become a church, and
I'll be the chandelier in it." So when the three servants
came, nothing w^as there but a church, with a chandelier
in it. They said therefore to each other, " What can we
do here, let us go home." When they got home, the
cook asked if they had not found them ; so they said no,
ihej had found nothing but a church, and that there was
a chandelier in it. And the cook scolded them and said,
" You fools ! why did you not pull the church to pieces,
and bring the chandelier home with you ? " And now
the old cook herself got on her legs, and went with
the three servants in pursuit of the children. The
children, however, saw from afar that the three servants
were coming, and the cook waddling after them. Then
said Lina, " Fundevogel, never leave me, and I will never
leave thee." Then said Fundevogel, " Neither now, nor
ever." Said Lina, " Be a fishpond, and I will be the duck
upon it." The cook, hoAvever, came up to them, and when
she saw the pond she lay dow^n by it, and was about to
drink it up. But the duck swam quickly to her, seized
her head in its beak and drew her into the water, and
there the old witch had to drown. Then the children
went home together, and were heartily delighted, and if
they are not dead, they are living still.

Tale 52.] KING THRUSHBEARD. 203

52.— KING THEUSHBEAED.

A KING had a daiigliter who was beautiful beyond all
measure, but so proud and haughty withal that no suitor
was good enough for her. She sent away one after the
other, and ridiculed them as well.

Once the King made a great feast and invited thereto,
from far and near, all the young men likely to marry.
They were all marshalled in a row according to their rank
and standing ; first came the kings, then the grand-dukes,
then the princes, the earls, the barons, and the gentry.
Then the King's daughter was led through the ranks, but
to every one she had some objection to make ; one was
too fat, " The wine-cask," she said. Another was too
tall, " Long and thin has little in." The third was too
short, " Short and thick is never quick." The fourth was
too pale, " As pale as death." The fifth too red, " A
fighting-cock." The sixth was not straight enough, " A
green log dried behind the stove."

So she had something to say against every one, but she
made herself especially merry over a good king who stood
quite high up in the row, and whose chin had grown a little
crooked. " Well," she cried and laughed, " he has a chin
like a thrush's beak ! " and from that time he got the
name of King Thrushbeard.

But the old King, when he saw that his daughter did
nothing but mock the people, and despised all the suitors
who were gathered there, was very angry, and swore that
she should have for her husband the very first beggar
that came to his doors.

A few days afterwards a fiddler came and sang beneath
the windows, trying to earn a small alms. When the
King heard him he said, "Let him come up." So the
fiddler came in, in his dirty, ragged clothes, and sang
before the King and his daughter, and when he had ended
he asked for a trifling gift. The King said, " Your song
has pleased me so well that I will give you my daughter
there, to wife."

204 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 52.

The King's daughter shuddered, but the King said, " I
have taken an oath to give you to the very first beggar-
man, and 1 will keep it." All she could say was in vain ;
the priest was brought, and she had to let herself be
wedded to the fiddler on the spot. When that was done
the King said, " Now it is not proper ^t you, a beggar-
woman, to stay any longer in my palace, you may just
go away with your husband."

The beggar-man led her out by the hand, and she was
obliged to walk away on foot ^vith him. When they came
to a large forest she asked, " To whom does that beautiful
forest belong ? " "It belongs to King Thrushbeard; if
you had taken him, it would have been yours." " Ah,
unhappy girl that I am, if I had but taken King Thrush-
beard ! "

Afterwards they came to a meadow, and she asked
again, " To whofh does this beautiful green meadow
belong ? " "It belongs to King Thrushbeard ; if you had
taken him, it would have been yours." " Ah, unhappy
girl that I ani, if I had but taken King Thrushbeard ! "

Then they came to a large town, and she asked again,
"To whom does this fine large town belong?" "It
belongs to King Thrushbeard ; if you had taken him, it
would have been yours." " Ah, unhappy girl that I am,
if I had but taken King Thmshbeard ! "

" It does not please me," said the fiddler, " to hear you
always wishing for another husband ; am I not good
enough for you ? " At last they came to a very little hut,
and she said, " Oh, goodness ! what a small house ; to
whom does this miserable, mean hovel belong ? " The
fiddler answered, " That is my house and yours, where we
shall live together."

She had to stoop in order to go in at the low door.
*' W^here are the servants ? " said the King's daughter.
" What servants ? " answered the beggar-man ; " you must
yourself do what you wish to have done. Just make a fire
at once, and set on water to cook my supper, I am quite
tired." But the King's daughter knew nothing about
lighting fires or cooking, and the beggar-man had to lend a
hand himself to get anything fairly done. When they
had finished their scanty meal they went to bed ; but he

Tale 52.] KING THRUSHBEARD. 205

forced her to get up quite early in the morning in order
to look after the house.

For a few days they lived in this way as well as might
be, and finished all their provisions. Then the man said,
*' Wife, we cannot go on any longer eating and drinking
here and earnins: nothiiia:. You must weave baskets."
He went out, cut some willows, and brought them home.
Then she began to weave, but the tough willows wounded
her delicate hands.

" I see that this will not do," said the man ; " you had
better spin, perhaps you can do that better." She sat
down and tried to s^^in, but the hard thread soon cut her
soft fingers so that the blood ran down. " See," said
the man, " you are fit for no sort of work ; I have made
a bad bargain with you. Now I will try to make a
business with pots and earthenware ; you must sit in the
market-place and sell the ware." " Alas," thought she,
" if any of the people from my father's kingdom come to
the market and see me sitting there, selling, how they will
mock me ? " But it was of no use, she had to yield unless
she chose to die of hunger.

For the first time she succeeded well, for the people were
glad to buy the woman's wares because she was good-
looking, and they paid her what she ask< d ; many even
gave her the money and left the pots with her as well.
So they lived on what she had earned as long as it lasted,
then the husband bought a lot of new crockery. With
this she sat down at the corner of the market-place, and
set it out round about her ready for sale. But suddenly
there came a drunken hussar galloping along. ;tnd he rode
right amongst the pots so that they were all broken into a
thousand bits. She began to weep, and did not know
what to do for fear. " Alas ! what Mdll happen to me ? '*
cried she ; " what will my husband say to this ? "

She ran home and told him of the misfortune. " Who
would seat herself at a corner of the market-place with
crockery ? " said the man ; " leave off crying, I see ver^" well
that you cannot do any ordinary work, so 1 have been to
our King's palace and have asked whether they cannot find
a place for a kitchen-maid, and they have promised me to
take you ; in that way you will get your food for nothing."

206 GRIMM's household tales [Tale 52.

The King's daughter was now a kitchen-maid, and had
to be at the cook's beck and call, and do the dirtiest work.
In both her pockets she fastened a little jar, in which she
took home her share of the leavings, and upon this they
lived.

It happened tliat the wedding of the King's eldest son
was to be celeVirated, so the poor woman went up and
placed herself by the door of the hall to look on. When
all the candles were lit, and people, each more beautiful
than the other, entered, and all was full of pomp and
splendour, she thought of her lot with a sad heart, and
cursed the pride and haughtiness which had humbled her
and brought her to so great poverty.

The smell of the delicious dishes which were being:
taken in and out reached her, and now and then the
servants threw her a few morsels of them : these she put
in her jars to take home.

All at once the King's son entered, clothed in velvet and
silk, with gold chains about his neck. And when he saw
the beautiful woman standing by the door he seized her
by the hand, and would have danced with her ; but she
refused and shrank with fear, for she saw that it was
King Thrushbeard, her suitor whom she had driven away
with scorn. Her struggles were of no avail, he drew her
into the hall ; but the string by which her pockets were
hung broke, the pots fell down, the soup ran out, and the
scraps were scattered all about. And when the people saw
it, there arose general laughter and derision, and she was
so ashamed that she would rather have been a thousand
fathoms below the ground. She sprang to the door and
would have run away, but on the stairs a man caught her
and brought her back ; and when she looked at him it
was King Thrushbeard again. He said to her kindly,
*' Do not be afraid, I and the fiddler who has been living
with you in that wretched hovel are one. For love
of you I disguised m3'self so ; and I also was the hussar
who rode through your crockery. This was all done to
humble your proud spirit, and to punish you for the
insolence with which you mocked me."

Then she wept bitterly and said, " I have done great
wrong, and am not worthy to be your wife." But he said,

Tale 53.] LITTLE SNOW-WHITE. 207

" Be comforted, the evil days are past ; now we will
celebrate our wedding." Then the maids-in -waiting came
and put on her the' most splendid clothing, and her father
and his whole court came and wished her happiness in
lier marriage with King Thrushbeard, and tlie joy now
began in earnest. I wisli you and I Lad been there too.

53.— LITTLE SNOW-WHITE.

Once upon a time in the middle of winter, when the
flakes of snow were falling like feathers from the sky, a
queen sat at a window sewing, and the frame of the
window was made of black ebony. And whilst she was
sewing and looking out of the window at the snow, she
pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of
blood fell upon the snow. And the red looked pretty
upon the white snow, and she thought to herself, " Would
that I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and
as black as the wood of the window-frame."

Soon alter that she had a little daughter, who was as
white as snow, and as red as blood, and her hair was as
black as ebony ; and she was therefore called Little Snow-
white. And when the child was born, the Queen died.

After a year had passed the King took to himself an-
other wife. She was a beautiful woman, but proud and
haughty, and she could not bear that any one else should
surpass her in beauty. She had a wonderful looking-glass,
and when she stood in front of it and looked at herself in
it, and said —

"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all ? "

the looking-glass answered —

" Thou, O Queen, art the fairest of all ! "

Then she was satisfied, for she knew that the looking-
glass spoke the truth.

But Snow-white was growing up, and grew more and

208 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 53.

more beautiful ; and when she was seven years old she
was as beautiiul as the day, and more beautiful than the
Queen herself. And once when the Queen asked her
looking-glass —

" Looking-glass, Looking-glnss, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all ? *'

it answered —

" Thou art fairer than all who are here, Lady Queen."
But more beautiful still is Snow-white, as I ween."

Then the Queen was shocked, and turned yellow and
green with envy. From that hour, whenever she looked
at Snow-white, her heart- heaved in her breast, she hated
the girl so much.

And envy and pride grew higher and higher in her
heart like a weed, so that she had no peace day or night.
She called a huntsman, and said, " Take the child away
into the forest ; I will no longer have her in my sight. Kill
her, and bring me back her heart as a token." The hunts-
man obej^ed, and took her away ; but when he had
drawn his knife, and was about to pierce Snow-white's
innocent heart, she began to weep, and said, " Ah, dear
huntsman, leave me my life ! I will run away into the
wild forest, and never come home again."

And as she was so beautiful the huntsman had pity on
her and said, " Run away, then, you poor child." " The
wild beasts v/ill soon have devoured you," thought he,
and yet it seemed as if a stone had been rolled from his
heart since it was no longer needful for him to kill her.
And as a young boar just then came running by he stabbed
it, and cut out its heart and took it to the Queen as a proof
that the child was dead. The cook had to salt this, and
the wicked Queen ate it, and thought she had eaten the
heart of Snow-white.

But now the poor child was all alone in the great forest,
and so terrified that she looked at every leaf of every
tree, and did not know what to do. Then she began to
run, and ran over sharp stones and through thorns, and
the wild beasts ran past her, but did her no harm.

She ran as long as her feet would go until it was
almost eveniug; then she saw a little cottage and went

Tale 53.] LITTLE SNOW-WHITE. 209

into it to rest herself. Everything in the cottage was
small, but neater and cleaner than can be told. There
was a table on which was a white cover, and seven little
plates, and on each j^late a little sjDoon ; moreover, there
were seven little knives and forks, and seven little mugs.
Against the wall stood seven little beds side by side, and
covered with snow-white counterpanes.

Little Snow-white was so hungry and thirsty that she
ate some vegetables and bread from each plate and drank
a diop of wine out of each mug, for she did not wish
to take all from one only. Then, as she was so tired
she laid herself down on one of the little beds, but none
of them suited her ; one was too long, another too short,
but at last she found that the seventh one was right, and
so she remained in it, said a prayer and went to sleep.

When it was quite dark the owners of the cottage came
back; they were seven dwarfs who dug and delved in the
mountains for ore. They lit their seven candles, and as
It was now light within the cottage they saw that some
(»ne had been there, for everything was not in the same
order in which they had left it.

The first said, " Who has been sitting on my chair? "
The second, " Who has been eating off my plate ? "
The third, " Who has been taking some of my bread ? "
The fourth, " Who has been eating my vegetables ? "
The fifth, " Who has been using my fork ? "
The sixth, " Who has been cutting with my knife ? "
The seventh, "Who has been drinking out of mv
mug ? " "^

Then the first looked round and saw that there was a
little hole on his bed, and he said, " Who has been getting
into my bed?" The others came up and each called out
"Somebody has been lying in my bed too." But the
seventh when he looked at his bed saw little Snow-white
who was lying asleep therein. And he called the others'
who came running up, and they cried out with astonish-
ment, and brought their seven little candles and let the
light fall on little Snow-Avhite. " Oh, heavens ' oh
heavens ! " cried they, " what a lovely child ! " and they
were so glad that they did not wake her up, but let her
Bleep on m the bed. And the seventh dwarf slept with

VOL. I. • ,,

210 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 53.

his companions, one liour with each, and so got through
the night.

When it was morning little Snow-white awoke, and
was frightened when she saw the seven dwarfs. But
they were friendly and asked her what her name was.
" My name is Snow-white," she answered. " How have
you come to our house ? " said the dwarfs. Then she told
them that her step-mother had wished to have her killed,
but that the huntsman had spared her life, and that she
had run for the whole day, until at last she had found
their dwelling. The dwarfs said, " If you will take care
of our house, cook, make the beds, wash, sew, and knit,
and if you will keep everything neat and clean, you can
stay with us and you shall want for nothing." " Yes,"
said Snow-white, " with all my heart," and she stayed with
them. She kept the house in order for them ; in the
mornings they went to the mountains and looked for
copper and gold, in the evenings they came back, and
then their supper had to be ready. The girl was alone the
whole day, so the good dwarfs warned her and said,
*' Beware of your step-mother, she will soon know that
you are here ; be sure to let no one come in."

But the Queen, believing that she had eaten Snow-
white's heart, could not but think that she was again the
first and most beautiful of all; and she went to her
lookingi-glass and said —

'O O'

" Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all ? "

and the glass answered —

" Oh, Queen, tliou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell.
Snow-white is still alive and well,
And none is so fair as she."

Then she was astounded, for she knew that the looking-
glass never spoke falsely, and she knew that the huntsman
had betrayed her, and that little Snow-white was still
alive.

And so she thought and thought again how she might
kill her, for so long as she was not the fairest in the whole

Tale 53.] LITTLE SNOW-WHITE. 211

land, envy let her have no rest. And when she had at
last thought of something to do, she painted her face, and
dressed herself like an old pedler-woman, and no one
could have known her. In this disguise she went over
the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs, and knocked
at the door and cried, " Pretty things to sell, very cheap,
very cheap." Little Snow-white looked out of the window
and called out, " Good-day, my good woman, what have
you to sell?" "Good things, pretty things," she
answered ; " stay-laces of all colours," and she pulled
out one which was woven of bright-coloured silk. "I
may let the worthy old woman in," thought Snow-white,
and she unbolted the door and bought the pretty
laces. " Child," said the old woman," what a fright you
look; come, I will lace you properly for once." Snow-
white had no suspicion, but stood before her, and let
herself be laced with the new laces. But the old woman
laced so quickly and laced so tightly that Snow-white lost
her breath and fell down as if dead. " Now I am the
most beautiful," said the Queen to herself, and ran away.

Not long afterwards, in the evening, the seven dwarfs
came home, but how shocked they were when they saw
their dear little Snow-white lying on the ground, and
that she neither stirred nor moved, and seemed to be dead.
They lifted her up, and, as they saw that she was laced
too tightly, they cut the laces ; then she began to breathe
a little, and after a while came to life again. When the
dwarfs heard what had happened they said, " The old
pedler-woman was no one else than the wicked Queen;
take care and let no one come in when we are not with
you."

But the wicked woman when she had reached home
went in front of the glass and asked —

"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?"

and it answered as before —

"Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see,
But over the hills, where the seven dwarfs dwell,
Snow-white is still alive and well,
And none is so fair as she."

p 2

212 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 53.

When she heard that, all her blood rushed to her heart
with fear, for she saw plainly that little Snow-white was
again alive. "But now," she said, "I will think of
something that shall pnt an end to yon," and by the help
of witchcraft, which she understood, she made a poisonous
comb. Then she disguised herself and took the shape of
another old woman. iSo she went over the seven moun-
tains to the seven dwarfs, knocked at the door, and cried,
" Good things to sell, cheap, cheap ! " Little Snow-white
looked out and said, " Go away ; I cannot let any one
come in." " I suppose you can look," said the old woman,
and pulled the poisonous comb out and held it up._ It
pleased the girl so well that she let herself be beguiled,
and opened the door. When they had made a bargain the
old woman said, " Now I will comb you properly for once."
Poor little Snow-white had no suspicion, and let the old
woman do as she pleased, but hardly had she put the
comb in her hair than the poison in it took effect, and the
girl fell down senseless. " You paragon of beauty," said
the wicked woman, " you are done for now," and she went

away.

But fortunately it was almost evening, when the seven
dwarfs came home. When they saw Snow-white lying as
if dead upon the ground they at once suspected the step-
mother, and they looked and found the poisoned comb.
Scarcely had they taken it out when Snow-white came to
herself, and told them what had happened. Then they
warned her once more to be upon her guard and to open
the door to no one.

The Queen, at home, went in front of the glass and

said —

"Looking-glass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
"Who in this land is the fairest of all?"

then it answered as before —

" Oh, Queen, thou art fairest of all I see.
But over the hills, where the seven dw;.rfs dwell.
Snow-white is ttill alive and well,
And none is so fair as she."

When she heard the glass speak thus she trembled and
shook with rage. " Snow-white shall die," she cried, " evei^
ii It costs me my life ! "

i

Tale 53.] LITTLE SNOW-WHITE. 213

Thereupon slie went into a quite secret, lonely room,
where no one ever came, and there she made a very-
poisonous apple. Outside it looked pretty, white with
a red cheek, so that every one who saw it longed for it ;
but whoever ate a piece of it must surely die.

When the apple was ready she painted her face, and
dressed herself up as a country-woman, and so she went
over the seven mountains to the seven dwarfs. She
knocked at the door. Snow-white put her head out of the
window and said, "I cannot let any one in; the seven
dwarfs have forbidden me." " It is all the same to me,"
answered the woman, " I shall soon get rid of my apples.
There, I will give you one."

" Ko," said Snow-white, " I dare not take anything."
" Are yon afraid of poison ? " said the old woman ; " look,
I will cut the apple in two pieces ; you eat the red cheek,
and I will eat the white." The apple was so cunningly
made that only the red cheek was poisoned. Snow-white
longed for the fine apple, and when she saw that the
woman ate part of it she could resist no longer, and
stretched out her hand and took the poisonous half. But
hardly had she a bit of it in her mouth than she fell down
dead. Then the Queen looked at her with a dreadful
look, and laughed aloud and said, " Wldte as snow, red
as blood, black as ebony- wood ! this time the dwarfs cannot
wake you up again."

And when she asked of the Looking-glass at home —

"Looking-glass, Looking-glnss, on the wall,
Who in this land is the fairest of all?"

it answered at last —

" 01), Queen, in this land thou art fairest of all.**

Then her envious heart had rest, so far as an envious
heart can have rest.

The dwarfs, when they came home in the evening,
found Snow-white lying upon the ground ; she breathed
no longer and was dead. They lifted her up, looked to see
whether they could find anything poisonous, unlaced her,
combed her hair, washed her with water and wine, but it
was all of no use ; the poor child was dead, and remained

214 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 53.

dead. They laid her upon a bier, and all seven of them
sat round it and wept for her, and wept three days long.

Then they were going to bury her, but she still looked
as if she were living, and' still had her pretty red cheeks.
They said, " We could not bury her in the dark ground,"
and they had a transparent coffin of glass made, so that
she could be seen from all sides, and they laid her in it,
and wrote her name upon it in golden letters, and that
she was a king's daughter. Then they put the coffin ont
upon the mountain, and one of them always stayed by
it and watched it. And birds came too, and wept for
Snow-white ; first an owl, then a raven, and last a dove.

And now Snow-white lay a long, long time in the coffin,
and she did not change, but looked as if she were asleep ;
for she was as white as snow, as red as blood, and her
hair was as black as ebonj'-.

It happened, however, that a king's son came into the
forest, and went to the dwarfs' house to spend the night.
He saw the coffin on the mountain, and the beautiful Snow-
white within it, and read what was written upon it in
golden letters. Then he said to vhe dwarfs, " Let me
have the coffin, I will give you whatever you want for it."
But the dwarfs answered, "We will no^. part with it for
all the gold in the world." Then h^ said, "Let me
have it as a gift, for I cannot live withe ut seeing Snow-
white. I will honour and prize her as mj' dearest posses-
sion." As he spoke in this way the good dwarfs took pity
upon him, and gave him the coffin.

And now the King's son had it carried away by his
servants on their shoulders. And it happened that they
stumbled over a tree-stump, and with the shock the
poisonous piece of apple which Snow-white had bitten off
came out of her throat. And before long she opened her
eyes, lifted up the lid of the coffin, sat up, and was once
more alive. " Oh, heavens, where am I ? " she cried. The
King's son, full of joy, said, "You are with me,'' and told
her what had happened, and said, " I love you more than
everything in the world ; come with me to my father's
palace, you shall be my wife."'

And Snow-white was willing, and went with him,
and their wedding was held with great show and

i

Tale 54.] THE KNAPSACK, THE HAT, ETC. 215

splendour. But Snow-white's wicked step-mother was
also bidden to the feast. When she had arrayed herself
in beautiful clothes she went before the Looking-glass,
and said —

" Looking- o^lass, Looking-glass, on the wall,
Who in tliis land is tlie fairest of all ? "

the glass answered —

" Oh, Queen, of all here the fairest art thou,
But the young Queen is fairer by far as I trow.'*

Then the wicked woman uttered a curse, and was so
wretched, so utterly wretched, that she knew not what to
do. At first she would not go to the wedding at all, but
she had no peace, and must go to see the young Queen.
And when she went in she knew Snow-white; and she
stood still with rage and fear, and could not stir. But
iron slippers had already been put upon the fire, and they
were brought in with tongs, and set before her. Then she
was forced to put on the red-hot shoes, and dance until she
dropped down dead.

54.-THE KNAPSACK, THE HAT, AND THE
HORN.

There were once three brothers who had fallen deeper
and deeper into poverty, and at last their need was so great
that they had to endure hunger, and had nothing to eat
or drink. Then said they, " We cannot go on thus, we
had better go into the world and seek our fortune." They
therefore set out, and had already walked over many a
long road and many a blade of grass, but had not yet met
with good luck. One day they arrived in a great forest,
and in the midst of it was a hill, and when they came
nearer they saw that the hill was all silver. Then spake
the eldest, " Now I have found the good luck I wished
for, and I desire nothing more." He took as much of
the silver as he could possibly carry, and then turned back
and went home again. But the two others said, " We

216 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 54.

want something more from good luck than mere silver,"
and did not touch it, bnt went onwards. After they had
walked for two days longer without stopping, they came
to a hill which was all gold. The second brother stopped,
took thought with himself, and was undecided. " What
shall I do .■' " said he ; " shall I take for myself so much of
this gold, that I have sufBcient for all the rest of my life,
or shall I go farther ? " At length he made a decision,
and putting as much into his pockets as would go in, said
farewell to his brother, and went home. But the third
said, " Silver and gold do not move me, I will not renounce
my chance of fortune, perhaps something better still will
be given me." He journeyed onwards, and when he had
walked for three days, he got into a forest which was still
larger than the one before, and never would come to an
end, and as he found nothing to eat or to drink, he was all
but exhausted. Then he climbed up a high tree to find
out if up there he could see the end of the forest, but so
far as his eye could pierce he saw nothing but the tops of
trees. Then he began to descend the tree again, but hunger
tormented him, and he thought to himself, " If I could
but eat my fill once more ! " When he got down he saw
with astonishment a table beneath the tree richly spread
with food, the steam of which rose up to meet him.
" This time," said he, " my wish has been fulfilled at the
rio-ht moment." And without inquiring who had brought
the food, or who had cooked it, he approached the table,
and ate with enjoyment until he had appeased his hunger.
When he was done, he thought, " It would after all be a
pity if the pretty little table-cloth were to be spoilt in the
forest here," and folded it up tidily and put it in his
pocket. Then he went onwards, and in the evening, when
huno-er once more made itself felt, he wanted to make
a trial of his little cloth, and spread it out and said, " I
wish thee to be covered with good cheer again," ^ and
scarcely had the wish crossed his lips than as many dishes
with the most exquisite food on them stood on the table
as there was room for. " Now I perceive," said he, " in
what kitchen my cooking is done. Thou shalt be dearer
to me than the mountains of silver and gold." For he saw
plainly that it was a wisbing-cloth. The cloth, however,

Tale 54.] THE KNAPSACK, THE HAT, ETC. 217

was still not enough to enable him to sit down quietly at
home ; he preferred to wander about the world and pursue
his fortune farther.

One night he met, in a lonely wood, a dusty, black char-
coal-burner, who was burning charcoal there, and had some
potatoes by the fire, on which he was going to make a meal.
'• Good evening, blackbird ! " said the youth. " How dost
thou get on in thy solitude ? "

" One day is like another," replied the charcoal-burner,
" and every night potatoes ! Hast thou a mind to have
some, and wilt thou be my guest ? " " Many thanks," replied
the traveller, " I won't rob thee of thy supper ; thou didst
not reckon on a visitor, but if thou wilt put up with what
I have, thou shalt have an invitation."

"Who is to prepare it for thee?" said the charcoal-
burner. " I see that thou hast nothing with thee, and there
is no one within a two hours' w^alk who could give thee
anything." " And yet there shall be a meal," answered
the youth, "and better than any thou hast ever tasted."
Thereupon he brought his cloth out of his knapsack,
spread it on the ground, and said, " Little cloth, cover
thyself," and instantly boiled meat and baked meat stood
there, and as hot as if it had just come out of the
kitchen. The charcoal-burner stared, but did not require
much pressing ; he fell to, and thrust larger and larger
mouthfuls into his black mouth. When they had eaten
everything, the charcoal-burner smiled contentedly, and
said, " Hark thee, thy table-cloth has my approval ; it
would be a fine thing for me in this forest, where no one
ever cooks me anything good. I will propose an exchange
to thee ; there in the corner hangs a soldier's knapsack,
which is certainly old and shabby, but in it lie concealed
wonderful powers ; but, as I no longer use it, I will give
it to thee for the table-cloth."

" I must first know what these wonderful powers are,"
answered the youth.

" That will I tell thee," reiDlied the charcoal-burner ;
"every time thou tappest it with thy hand, a corporal
comes with six men armed from head to foot, and they do
whatsoever thou commandest them." " So far as I am
concerned," said he, " if nothing else can be done, vio will

218 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale Si.

excliange," and he g;ave the charcoal-burner the cloth, took
the knapsacji from the hook, put it on, and bade farewell.
When he had walked a while, he wished to make a trial
of the magical powers of his knapsack and tapped it.
Immediately the seven warriors stepped up to him, and
the corporal said, " What does my lord and ruler wish
for?"

" March with all speed to the charcoal-burner, and
demand my wishing-cloth back." They faced to the left,
and it was not long before they brought what he required,
and had taken it from the charcoal-burner without asking
many questions. The young man bade them retire, went
onwards, and hoped fortune would shine yet more brightly
on him. By sunset he came to another charcoal-burner,
who was making his supper ready by the fire. " If thou
' wilt eat some potatoes with salt, but with no dripping,
come and sit down with me," said the sooty fellow.

" No," he replied, " this time thou shalt be my guest,"
and he spread out his cloth, which was instantly covered
with the most beautiful dishes. They ate and drank
together, and enjoyed themselves heartily. After the
meal was over, the charcoal-burner said, " Up there on
that shelf lies a little old worn-out hat which has strange
properties : when any one puts it on, and turns it round
on his head, the cannons go off as if twelve were fired all
together, and they shoot down everything so that no one
can withstand them. The hat is of no use to me, and I
will willingly give it for thy table-cloth."

" That suits me very well," he answered, took the hat,
put it on, and left his table-cloth behind him. Hardly,
however, had he walked away than he tapped on his
knapsack, and his soldiers had to fetch the cloth back
again. " One thing comes on the top of another," thought
he, " and I feel as if my luck had not yet come to an
end." Neither had his thoughts deceived him. After he
had walked on for the whole of one day, he came to a
third charcoal-burner, who like the previous ones, invited
him to potatoes without dripping. But he let him also
dine with him from his wishing-cloth, and the charcoal-
burner liked it so well, that at last he offered him a horn
for it, which had very different properties from those of

Tale 54.] THE KNAPSACK, THE HAT, ETC. 219

the hat. When any one blew it all the walls and forti-
fications fell down, and all towns and villages became
ruins. He certainly gave the charcoal-burner the cloth
for it, but he afterwards sent his soldiers to demand it
back again, so that at length he had the knapsack, hat
and horn, all three. " Now," said he, " I am a made man,
and it is time for me to go home and see how my brothers
are getting on."

When he reached home, his brothers had built them-
selves a handsome house with their silver and gold, and
were living in clover. He went to see them, but as he
came in a ragged coat, with his shabby hat on his head,
and his old knapsack on his back, they would not
acknowledge him as their brother. They mocked and
said, " Thou givest out that thou art our brother who
despised silver and gold, and craved for something still
better for himself. He will come in his carriage in full
splendour like a mighty king, not like a beggar," and
they drove him out of doors. Then he fell into a rage,
and tapped his knapsack until a hundred and fifty men
stood before him armed from head to foot. He com-
manded them to surround his brothers' house, and two of
them were to take hazel-sticks with them, and beat the
two insolent men until they knew who he was. A violent
disturbance arose, people ran together, and wanted to
lend the two some help in their need, but against the
soldiers they could do nothing. News of this at length
came to the King, who was very angry, and ordered a
captain to march out with his troop, and drive this
disturber of the peace out of the town ; but the man with
the knapsack soon got a greater body of men together,
who repulsed the captain and his men, so that they were
forced to retire with bloody noses. The King said, " This
vagabond is not brought to order yet," and next day sent
a still larger troop against him, but they could do even
less. The youth set still more men against them, and in
order to be done the sooner, he turned his hat twice round
on his head, and heavy guns began to play, and the
king's men were beaten and put to flight. *' And now,"
said he, " I will not make peace until the King gives me
his daughter to wife, and i govern the whole kingdom in

220 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 54.

his name." He caused this to be announced to the King,
and the latter said to his daughter, "Necessity is a hard
nut to crack, — what remains to me but to do what he
desires ? If I want peace and to keep the crown on my
head, I must give thee away."

So the wedding was celebrated, but the King's daughter
was vexed that her husband should be a common man,
who wore a shabby hat, and put on an old knapsack.
She wished much to get rid of him, and night and day
studied how she could accomplish this. Then she
thought to herself, " Is it possible that his wonderful
powers lie in the knapsack ? " and she dissembled and
caressed him, and when his heart was softened, she said,
" If thou wouldst but lay aside that ugly knapsack, it
disfigures thee so, that I can't help being a.shamed of
thee." " Dear child," said he, " this knapsack is my
greatest treasure ; as long as I have it, there is no power
on earth that I am afraid of." And he revealed to her
the wonderful virtue with which it was endowed. Then
she threw herself in his arms as if she were going to kiss
him, but dexterously took the knapsack ofl' his shoulders,
and ran away with it. As soon as she was alone she
tapped it, and commanded the warriors to seize their
former master, and take him out of the royal palace.
They obeyed, and the false wife sent still more men after
him, who were to drive him quite out of the country.
Then he would have been ruined if he had not had the
little hat. But his hands were scarcely at liberty before
he turned it twice. Immediately the cannon began to
thunder, and struck down everything, and the King's
daughter herself was forced to come and beg for mercy.
As she entreated in such moving terms, and promised
amendment, he allowed himself to be persuaded and
granted her peace. She behaved in a friendly manner to
him, and acted as if she loved him very much, and after
some time managed so to befool him, that he confided to
her that even if any one got the knapsack into his power,
he could do nothing against him so long as the old hat
was still his. When she knew the secret, she waited
until he was asleep, and then she took the hat away from
him, and had it thrown out into the street. But the horn

Tale 55.] EUMPELSTILTSKIN. 221

still remained to him, and in great anger he blew it
with all his strength. Instantly all walls, fortifications,
towns, and villages, toppled down, and crushed the King and
his daughter to death. And had he not put down the
horn and had just blown a little longer, everything would
have been in ruins, and not one stone would have been
left standing on another. Then no one opposed him any
longer, and he made himself King of the whole country.

55.— EUMPELSTILTSKIN.

Once there was a miller who was poor, but who
had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he
had to go and speak to the King, and in order to
make himself appear important he said to him, " I have
a daughter who can spin straw into gold." The King
said to the miller, " That is an art which pleases me
well ; if your daughter is as clever as you say, bring
her to-morrow to my palace, and I will try what she
can do."

And when the girl was brought to him he took her
into a room which was quite full of straw, gave her
a spinning-wheel and a reel, and said, " Now set to
work, and if by to-morrow morning early you have
not spun this straw into gold during the night, you
must die." Thereupon he himself locked up the room,
and left her in it alone. So there sat the poor miller's
daughter, and for her life could not tell what to do ;
she had no idea how straw could be spun into gold,
and she grew more and more miserable, until at last
she began to weep.

But all at once the door opened, and in came a little
man, and said, " Good evening. Mistress Miller ; why are
you crying so ? " " Alas ! " answered the girl, " I have
to spin straw into gold, and I do not know how to do it."
" What will you give me," said the manikin, " if I do it
for you ? " " My necklace," said the girl. The little man
took the necklace, seated himself in front of the wheel,

222 GKIMM'S HOT^SEHOLD TALES. [Tale 55.

and " whirr, whirr, whirr," three turns, and the reel was
full ; then he put another on, and whirr, whirr, whirr,
three times round, and the second was full too. And
so it went on until the morning, when all the straw
was spun, and all the reels were full of gold. By
daybreak the King was already there, and when he
saw the gold he was astonished and delighted, but his
heart became only more greedy. He had the miller's
daug-hter taken into another room full of straw, which
was much larger, and commanded her to spin that also
in one night if she valued her life. The girl knew not
how to help herself, and was crying, when the door
again opened, and the little man appeared, and said,
" What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold
for you ? " " The ring on my finger," answered the
girl. The little man took the ring, again began to
turn the wheel, and by morning had spun all the straw
into glittering gold.

The King rejoiced beyond measure at the sight, but
still he had not gold enough ; and be had the miller's
daughter taken into a still larger room full of straw,
and said, " You must spin this, too, in the course of this
night ; but if you succeed, you shall be my wife. " " Even
if she be a miller's daughter," thought he, " I could not
find a richer wife in the whole world."

When the girl was alone the manikin came again
for the third time, and said, "What will you give me
if I spin the straw for you this time also?" "I have
nothing left that I could give," answered the girl.
" Then promise me, if you should become Queen, your
first child." "Who knows whether that will ever
happen?" thought the miller's daughter; and, not
knowing how else to help herself in this strait, she
promised the manikin what he wanted, and for that he
once more span the straw into gold.

And when the King came in the morning, and found
all as he had A^dshed, he took her in marriage, and the
pretty miller's daughter became a Queen.

A year after, she had a beautiful child, and she never
gave a thought to the manikin. But suddenly he
came into her room, and said, " Now give me what you

Tale 55.] RUMPELSTILTSKIN. 223

promised." The Queen was horror-strnck, and offered
the manikin all the riches of the kingdom if he would
leave her the child. But the manikin said, " No, some-
thing that is living is dearer to me than all the treasures
in the world." Then the Queen began to weep and cry,
so that the manikin pitied her. " I will give you three
days' time," said he ; " if by that time you find out my
name, then shall you keep your child."

So the Queen thought the whole night of all the
names that she had ever heard, and she sent a mes-
senger over the country to inquire, far and wide, for
any other names that there might be. When the
manikin came the next day, she began with Caspar,
Melchior, Balthazar, and said all the names she knew,
one after another ; but to every one the little man
said, " That is not my name." On the second day she
had inquiries made in the neighbourhood as to the
names of the people there, and she repeated to the
manikin the most uncommon and curious. " Perhaps
your name is Shortribs, or Sheepshanks, or Laceleg ? "
but he always answered, " That is not my name."

On the third day the messenger came back again,
and said, " 1 have not been able to find a single new
name, but as I came to a high mountain at the end of the
forest, where the fox and the hare bid each other good
night, there I saw a little house, and before the house
a fire was burning, and round about the fire quite a
ridiculous little man was jumping : he hopped upon
one leg, and shouted —

" ' To-day I bake, to-morrow brew.

The next I'll have the young Queen's child.
Ha ! glad am I that no one knew
That Rumpelstiltskin I am styled. ' "

You msij think how glad the Queen was when she
heard the name ! And when soon afterwards the little
man came in, and asked, " Now, Mistress Queen, what is
my name ? " at first she said, " Is your name Conrad?"
" No." " Is your name Harry ? " " No."
" Perhaps your name is Eumpelstiltskin ? "
*' The devil has told you that ! the devil has told
you that ! " cried the little man, and in his anger he

224 GRrMM's HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 56.

plunged his right foot so deep into the earth that his
whole leg went in ; and then in rage he pulled at his left
leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two.

56._SWEETHEAIIT ROLAND.

There was once on a time a woman who was a real witch
and had two daughters, one ugly and wicked, and this
one she loved because she was her own daughter, and
one beautiful and good, and this one she hated, because she
was her step-daughter. The step-daughter once had a
pretty apron, which the other fancied so much that she
became envious, and told her mother that she must and
would have that apron. " Be quiet, my child," said the
old woman, " and thou shalt have it. Thy step-sister Las
long deserved death, to-night when she is asleep I will
come and cut her head off. Only be careful that thou art
at the far-side of the bed, and push her well to the front."
It would have been all over with the poor girl if she had
not just then been standing in a corner, and heard every-
thing. All day long she dared not go out of doors, and
when bed-time had come, the witch's daughter got into
bed first, so as to lie at the far side, but when she was
asleep, the other pushed her gently to the front, and took
for herself the place at the back, close by the wall. In the
night, the old woman came creeping in, she held an axe in
her right hand, and felt with her left to see if any one
was lying at the outside, and then she grasped the axe
with both hands, and cut her own child's head off.

When she had gone away, the girl got up and went to
her sweetheart, who was called Roland, and knocked at his
door. When he came out, she said to him, " Hear me,
dearest Roland, we must fly in all haste ; my step-mother
wanted to kill me, but has struck her own child. When
daylight comes, and she sees what she has done, we shall
be lost." " But," said Roland, " I counsel thee first to
take away her magic wand, or we cannot escape if she
pursues us." The maiden fetched the magic wand, and

Tale 56.] SWEETHEART ROLAND. 225

she took the dead girl's head and dropped three drops
of blood^ on the ground, one in front of the bed, one
in the kitchen, and one on the stairs. Then she hurried
away with her lover. When the old witch got up next
morning, she called her daughter, and wanted to give her
the apron, but she did not come. Then the witch cried
" Where art thou ? " " Here, on the stairs, I am sweeping ''
answered the first drop of blood. The old woman went
out, but saw no one on the stairs, and cried again, " Where
art thou ?■" " Here in the kitchen, I am warming myself,"
cried the second drop of blood. She went into the kitchen,
but found no one. Then she cried again, "Where art
thou ? " " Ah, here in the bed, I am sleeping." cried the
third drop of blood. She went into the room to the bed.
What did she see there ? Her own child, whose head she had
cut off, bathed in her blood. The witch fell into a passion,
sprang to the window, and as she could look forth quite
far into the world, she perceived her step-daughter hurry-
ing away with her sweetheart Roland. " That shall not
serve you," cried she, " even if you have got a long way
off, you shall still not escape me." She put on her many
league boots, in which she went an hour's walk at every
step, and it was not long before she overtook them. The
girl, however, when she saw the old woman striding
towards her, changed, with her magic wand, her sweetheart
Koland into a lake, and herself into a duck swimminp;
in the middle of it. The witch placed herself on the shore,
threw bread-crumbs in, and gave herself every possible
trouble to entice the duck ; but the duck did not let herself
be enticed, and the old woman had to go home at night as
she had come. On this the girl and her sweetheart Roland
resumed their natural shapes again, and they walked on the
whole night until daybreak. Then the maiden changed
herself into a beautiful flower which stood in the midst of
a briar hedge, and her sweetheart Eoland into a fiddler.
It was not long before the witch came striding up towards
them, and said to the musician, " Dear musician, may I
pluck that beautiful flower for myself? " » Oh, yes," he re-
plied, " I will play to you while you do it." ' As 'she was
hastily creeping into the hedge and was just going to
pluck the flower, for she well knew who the flower was

VOL. I. Q

226 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 56.

he began to play, and whether she would or not, she^ was
forced to dance, for it was a magical dance. The quicker
he played, the more violent springs was she forced to make,
and the thorns tore her clothes from her body, and pricked
her and wounded her till she bled, and as he did not stop,
she had to dance till she lay dead on the ground.

When they were delivered, Eoland said, " Now I will goto
my father and arrange for the wedding." " Then in the
meantime I will stay here and wait for thee,'' said the
girl, " and that no one may recognize me, I will change
myself into a red stone land-mark." Then Koland went
away, and the girl stood like a red land-mark in the field
and waited for her beloved. But when Eoland got home,
he fell into the snares of another, who prevailed on him
so far that he forgot the maiden. The poor girl remained
there a long time, but at length, as he did not return at
all, she was sad, and changed herself into a flower, and
thought, " Some one will surely come this way, and
trample me down."

It befell, however, that a shepherd kept his sheep in the
field, and saw the flower, and as it was so pretty, plucked
it, took it with him, and laid it away in his chest. From
that time forth, strange things happened in the shepherd's
house. When he arose in the morning, all the work was
already done, the room was swept, the table and benches
cleaned, the fire on the hearth was lighted, and the water
was fetched, and at noon, when he came home, the table
was laid, and a good dinner served. He could not conceive
how this came to pass, for he never saw a human being in
his house, and no one could have concealed himself in it.
He was certainly pleased with this good attendance,
but still at last he was so afraid that he went to a wise
woman and asked for her advice. The wise woman said,
" There is some enchantment behind it, listen very early
some morning if anything is moving in the room, and if
thou seest anything, let it be what it may, throw ^^ a
white cloth over it, and then the magic will be stopped."

The shepherd did as she bade him, and next morning
just as day dawned, he saw the chest open, and the flower
come out. Swiftly he sprang towards it, and threw a
white cloth over it. Instantly the transformation came

Tale 57.] THE GOLDEN BIRD. 227

to an end,^ and a beautiful girl stood before him, who
owned to him that she had been the flower, and that up to
this time she had attended to his housekeejoino;. She tckl
him her story, and as she pleased him he asked her if she
would marry him, but she answered, " No," for she wanted
to remain faithful to her sweetheart Eoland, although he
had deserted her, but she promised not to go away, but to
keep house for the shepherd for the future.

And now the time drew near when Eoland's wedding
was to be celebrated, and then, according to an old custom
in the country, it was announced that all the girls were to
be present at it, and sing in honour of the bridal pair.
When the faithful maiden heard of this, she grew so sad
that she thought her heart would break, and she would
not go^ thither, but the other girls came and took her.
When it came to her turn to sing, she stepped back, until
at last she was the only one left, and then she could not
refuse. But when she began her song, and it reached
Eoland's ears, he sprang up and cried, " I know the voice,
that is the true bride, I will have no other ! " Everything
he had forgotten, and which had vanished from his minct
had suddenly come home again to his heart. Then the
faithful maiden held her wedding with her sweetheart
Koland, and grief came to an end and joy began.

57.— THE GOLDEN BIED.

In the olden time there w^as a king, who had behind his
palace a beautiful pleasure-garden in which there was a
tree that bore golden apples. When the ajDples were
getting ripe they were counted, but on the very next
morning one w^as missing. This was told to the King,
and he ordered that a watch should be kept every nio-ht
beneath the tree. *

The King had three sons, the eldest of whom he sent,
as^ soon as night came on, into the garden ; but w^hen
midnight came^ he could not keep himself from sleeping,
and next morning again an apple was gone.

Q 2

228 geimm's household tales. [tale 57.

The following night the second son had to keep watch,
it fared no better with him ; as soon as twelve o'clock had
struck he fell asleep, and in the morning an apple was
gone.

Now it came to the turn of the third son to watch ; and
he was quite ready, but the King had not much trust in
him, and thought that he would be of less use even than
his brothers : but at last he let him go. The youth lay
down beneath the tree, but kept awake, and did not let
sleep master him. When it struck twelve, something
rustled through the air, and in the moonlight he saw a
bird coming whose feathers were all shining with gold.
The bird alighted on the tree, and had just plucked off
an apple, when the youth shot an arrow at him. The
bird flew off, but the arrow had struck his plumage, and
one of his golden feathers fell down. The youth picked it
up, and the next morning took it to the King and told
him what he had seen in the night. The King called his
council together, and every one declared that a feather
like this was worth more than the whole kingdom. " If
the feather is so precious," declared the King, "one
alone will not do for me; I must and will have the
whole bird ! "

The eldest son set out; he trusted to his cleverness,
and thought that he would easily find the Golden Bird.
When he had gone some distance he saw a Fox sitting at
the edge of a wood, so he cocked his gun and took aim at
him. The Fox cried, "Do not shoot me! and in return
I will give you some good counsel. You are on the way
to the Golden Bird ; and this evening you will come to a
village in which stand two inns opposite to one another.
One of them is lighted up brightly, and all goes on
merrily within, but do not go into it; go rather into
the other, even though it seems a bad one." " How can
such a silly beast give wise advice ? " thought the
King's son, and he pulled the trigger. But he missed
the Fox, who stretched out his tail and ran quickly into
the wood.

So he pursued his way, and by evening came to
the village where the two inns w^ere ; in one they
were singing and dancing ; the other had a poor,

Tale 57.] THE GOLDEN BIRD. 229

miserable look. " I should be a fool, indeed," he thought,
"if I were to go into the shabby tavern, and pass'^by
the good one." So he went into the cheerful one, lived
there in riot and revel, and forgot the bird and his father,
and all good counsels.

When some time had passed, and the eldest son for
month after month did not come back home, the second
set out, wishing to find the Golden Bird. The Fox met
him_ as he had met the eldest, and gave him the good
advice of which he took no heed. He came to the two
inns, and his brother was standing at the window of the
one from which came the music, and called out to him.
He could not resist, but went inside and lived only for
pleasure.

Again some time passed, and then the King's youngest
son wanted to set off and try his luck, but his father
would not allow it. " It is of no use," said he, " he will
find_ the Golden Bird still less than his brothers, and if
a mishap were to befall him he knows not how to help
himself; he is a little wanting at the best." But at last,
as he had no peace, he let him go.

Again the Fox was sitting outside the wood, and
begged for his life, and offered his good advice. The
youth was good-natured, and said, " Be easy, little Fox,
I will do you no harm." " You shall not repent it," an-
swered the Fox ; " and that you may get on more quickly,
get up behind on my tail." And scarcely had he seated
himself when the Fox began to run, and away he went
over stock and stone till his hair whistled in the wind.
When they came to the village the youth got off; he
followed the good advice, and without looking round
turned into the little inn, where he spent the nio-ht
quietly. °

The next morning, as soon as he got into the open
country, there sat the Fox already, and said, " I will tell
you further what you have to do. Go on quite straight,
and at last you will come to a castle, in front of which
a whole regiment of soldiers is lying, but do not trouble
yourself about them, for they will all be asleep and
snoring. Go through the midst of them straight into
the castle, and go through all the rooms, till at last you

230 GKIMM'S household TAL^S. [Tale 57.

will come to a cliamber where a Golden Bird is hanging
in a wooden cao;e. Close by, there stands an empty

gold cage for show, hut beware of taking the bird out of ,
the common cage and iDutting it into the fine one, or it I
may go badly with you." With these words the ¥oX i

again stretched out his tail, and the King's son seated
himself upon it, and away he went over stock and stone
till his hair whistled in the wind.

When he came to the castle he found everything as
the Fox had said. The King's son went into the chamber
where the Golden Bird was shut up in a wooden cage,
whilst a golden one stood hard by ; and the three golden
apples lay about the room. " But," thought he, " it would
be absurd if 1 were to leave the beautiful bird m the
common and ugly cage," so he opened the door, laid
hold of it, and put it into the golden cage. But at
the same moment the bird uttered a shrill cry. The
soldiers awoke, rushed in, and took him off to prison.
The next morning he was taken before a court of
justice, and as he confessed everything, was sentenced to

death. ^ i • i •

The King, however, said that he would grant him his
life on one condition— namely, if he brought him the
Golden Horse which ran faster than the wind; and in
that case he should receive, over and above, as a reward,
the Golden Bird.

The King's son set off, but he sighed and was sorrow-
ful, for how was he to find the Golden Horse ? But all
at once he saw his old friend the Fox sitting on the road.
" Look you," said the Fox, " this has happened because
you did not give heed to me. However, be of good
courage. I will give you my help, and tell you how
to get to the Golden Horse. You must go straight on,
and you will come to a castle, where in the stable stands
the horse. The grooms will be lying in front of the
stable ; but they will be asleep and snoring, and you
can quietly lead out the Golden Horse. But of one
thing you must take heed; put on him the common
saddle of wood and leather, and not the golden one,
which hangs close by, else it will go ill with you. Then
the Fox stretched out his tail, the King's son seated

Tale 57.] THE GOLDEN BIRD. 231

himself upon it, and away he went over stock and stone
until his hair whistled in the wind.

Everything happened just as the Fox had said • the
prince came to the stable in which the Golden Horse was
standing, but just as he was going to put the common
saddle upon him, he thought, " It will be a shame to
such a beautiful beast, if I do not give him the good
saddle which belongs to him by right." But scarcely
had the golden saddle touched the horse than he beo-an to
neigh loudly. The grooms awoke, seized the youth, and
threw him into prison. The next morning he was sen-
tenced by the court to death ; but the King promised
to grant him his life, and the Golden Horse as well if he
could bring back the beautiful princess from the Golden
uastle.

With a heavy heart the youth set out; yet luckily
toriiim he soon found the trusty Fox. "I ought only
to leave you to your ill-luck," said the Fox, " but I pity
you, and will help you once more out of your trouble.
I his road takes you straight to the Golden Castle, you
will reach it by eventide ; and at night when everything
is quiet the beautiful princess goes to the bathing-house
to bathe. When she enters it, run up to her and ffive
her a kiss, then she will follow you, and you can take
her away with you; only do not allow her to take leave
ol iier parents first, or it will go ill with you."

Then the Fox stretched out his tail, the King's son
seated himself upon it, and away the Fox went over
Btock and stone, till his hair whistled in the wind '

When he reached the Golden Castle it was just as the
lox had said. He waited until midnight, when every-
thing lay m deep sleep, and the beautiful princess was
going to the bathing-house. Then he sprang out and
gave her a kiss. She said that she would like to 2:0
wath him, but she asked him pitifully, and with tears, to
allow her hrst to take leave of her parents. At first he
withstood her prayer, but when she wept more and
more, and fell at his feet, he at last gave in. But no
sooner had the maiden reached the bedside of her father
than he and all the rest in the castle awoke, and the
youth was laid hold of and put into prison.

232 GEIMm'S household tales. [Tale 57.

The next morning the King said to him, "Your life
is forfeited, and you can onlj^ find mercy if you take
away the hill which stands in front of my wdndows,
and prevents my seeing beyond it ; and you must finish
it all within eight days. If you do that you shall have
my daughter as your reward."

The king's son began, and dug and shovelled without
leaving off, but when after seven days ho saw how little
he had done, and how all his work was as good as
nothing, he fell into great sorrow and gave up all hope.
But on the evening of the seventh day the Fox appeared
and said, "You do not deserve that I should take any
trouble about you; but just go away and lie down to
sleep, and I will do the work for you."

The next morning when he awoke and looked out
of the window the hill had gone. The youth ran, full
of joy, to the King, and told him that the task w^as ful-
filled, and whether he liked it or not, the King had to
hold to his word and give him his daughter.

So the two set forth together, and it was not long
before the trusty Fox came up with them. " You have
certainly got what is best," said he, " but the Golden Horse ;
also belongs to the maiden of the Golden Castle. " How
shall I get it ? " asked the youth. " That I will tell you,"
answered the Fox ; " first take the beautiful maiden to
the King who sent you to the Golden Castle. There
will be unheard-of rejoicing ; they will gladly give you .
the Golden Horse, and will bring it out to you. Mount ' -
it as soon as possible, and offer your hand to all in fare- _^
well; last of all to the beautiful maiden. And as soon
as you have taken her hand swing her up on to the
horse, and gallop away, and no one will be able to bring
y^ou back, for the horse runs faster than the wind."

All was brought to pass successfull}^, and the King's
son carried off the beautiful princess on the Golden Horse. -

The Fox did not remain behind, and he said to the
youth, " Now I will help you to get the Golden Bird.
When you come near to the castle where the Golden Bird
is to be found, let the maiden get down, and I wdll
take her into my care. Then ride with the Golden Horse
into the castle-yard ; there will be great rejoicing at the

Tale 57.] THE GOLDEN BIRD. 233

sight, and they will bring out the Golden Bird for yon.
As soon as you have the cage in your hand gallop back to
us, and take the maiden away again.

When the plan had succeeded, and the King's son was
about to ride home with his treasures, the Fox said, " Now
you shall reward me for my help." "What do you
require for it ? " asked the youth. " When you get into
the wood yonder, shoot me dead, and chop off mv head
and feet." "^

" That would be fine gratitude," said the King's son.
" I cannot possibly do that for you."

The Fox said, " If you will not do it I must leave you,
but before I go away I will give you a piece of good
advice. Be careful about two things. Buy no gallovvs'-
flesh, and do not sit at the edge of any well." And then
he ran into the wood.

The youth thought, " That is a wonderful beast, he
has strange whims ; who is going to buy gallows'-flesh ?
and the desire to sit at the edge of a well has never yet
seized me."

He rode on with the beautiful maiden, and his road
took him again through the village in which his two
brothers had remained. There was a great stir and noise,
and, when he asked what was going on, he was told that
two men were going to be hanged. As he came nearer
to the place he saw that they were his brothers, who had
been playing all kinds of wicked pranks, and had
squandered all their wealth . He inquired whether they
could not be set free. " If you will pay for them," an-
swered -the people; "but why should you waste 'your
money on wicked men, and buy them free." He did
not think twice about it, but paid for them, and when
they were set free they all went on their way together.

They came to the wood where the Fox had first met
them, and, as it was cool and pleasant within it, whilst
the sun shone hotly, the two brothers said, " Let us rest a
little by the well, and eat and drink." He agreed, and
whilst they were talking he forgot himself, and sat clown
upon the edge of the well without foreboding any evil.
But the two brothers threw him backwards into the well,
took the maiden, the Horse, and the Bird, and went home

234 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 57.

to tlieir father. " Here we bring you not only the Golden
Bird," said they ; " we have won the Golden Horse also,
and the maiden from the Golden Castle." Then was there
great joy ; but the Horse would not eat, the Bird would
not sing, and the maiden sat and wept.

But the youngest brother was not dead. By good
fortune the well was dry, and he fell upon soft moss
without being hurt, but he could not get out again.
Even in this strait the faithful Fox did not leave him : it
came and leapt down to him, and upbraided him for
having forgotten its advice. " But yet I cannot give it
up so," he said ; "I will help you up again into day-
light." He bade him grasp his tail and keep tight hold
of it ; and then he pulled him up.

"You are not out of all danger yet," said the Fox.
" Your brothers were not sure of your death, and have
surrounded the wood with watchers, who are to kill you
if you let yourself be seen." But a poor man was sitting
upon the road, with whom the youth changed clothes,
and in this way he got to the King's palace.

No one knew him, but the Bird began to sing, the Horse
began to eat, and the beautiful maiden left off weeping.
The King, astonished, asked, "What does this mean?"
Then the maiden said, " I do not know, but I have been
so sorrowful and now I am so happy ! I feel as if my
true bridegroom had come." She told him all that had
happened, although the other brothers had threatened
her with death if she were to betray anything.

The King commanded that all people who were in his
castle should be brought before him ; and amongst them
came the youth in his ragged clothes; but the maiden
knew him at once and fell upon his neck. The wicked
brothers were seized and put to death, but he was married
to the beautiful maiden and declared heir to the King.

But how did it fare with the poor Fox ? Long after-
wards the King's son was once again walking in the wood,
- when the Fox met him and said, " You have everything
now that you can wish for, but there is never an end to
my misery, and yet it is in your power to free me," and
ao-ain he asked him with tears to shoot him dead and to
chop off his head and feet. So he did it, and scarcely

Tale 58.] THE DOG AND THE SPAEKOW. 235

•was it done when the Fox was changed into a man,
and was no other than the brother of the beautiful
princess, who at last was freed from the magic charm
which had been laid upon him. And now nothing more
was wanting to their happiness as long as they lived.

68.— THE DOG AND THE SPAREOW.

A SHEEP-DOG had not a good master, but, on the con-
trary, one who let him suifer hunger. As he could stay
no longer with him, he went quite sadly away. On
the road he met a sparrow who said, "Brother dog,
why art thou so sad? " The dog replied, " I am hungry,
and have nothing to eat." Then said the sparrow,
*' Dear brother, come into the town with me, and I
will satisfy th}^ hunger." So they went into the town
together, and when they came in front of a butcher's shop
the sparrow said to the dog, " Stay there, and I will pick
a bit of meat down for . thee," and he alighted on the
stall, looked about him to see that no one was observing
him, and pecked and pulled and tore so long at a piece
which lay on the edge, that it slipped down. Then the
dog seized it, ran into a corner, and devoured it. The
snarrow said, " Now come with me to another shop, and
thsn I will get thee one more piece that thou mayst
be satisfied." When the dog had devoured the second
piece as well, the sparrow asked, " Brother dog, hast thou
now had enough ? " " Yes, I have had meat enough," he
answered," but I have had no bread yet." Said the spar-
row, " Thou shalt have that also, come with me." Then
he took him to a baker's shop, and pecked at a co'iiple of
little buns till they rolled down, and as the dog wanted
still more, he led him to another stall, and again got
bread for him. When that was consumed, the sparrow
said, " Brother dog, hast thou now had enough ? " " Yes,"
he replied, " now we will walk awhile outside the town."
Then they both Avent out on to the highway. It was, how-
ever, warm weather, and when they had walked a little way
the dog said, " I am tired, and would like to sleep." " Well,

236 GKIMM'S household tales. [Tale 58

do sleep," answered tlie sparrow, " and in the meantime I
will seat myself on a branch." So the dog lay down on
the road, and fell fast asleep. Whilst he lay sleeping
there, a waggoner came driving by, who had a cart with
three horses, laden with two barrels of wine. The sparrow,
however, saw that he was not going to turn aside, but was
staying in the wheel track in which the dog was lying,
so it cried, " Waggoner, don't do it, or I will make thee
poor." The waggoner, however, growled to himself,
" Thou wilt not make me poor," and cracked his whip and
drove the cart over the dog, and the wheels killed him.
1 hen the sparrow cried, " Thou hast driven over my
brother dog and killed him, it shall cost thee thy cart
and horses." " Cart and horses indeed ! " said the
waggoner. " What harm canst thou do me ? " and drove
onwards. Then the sparrow crept under the cover of the
cart, and pecked so long at the same bung-hole that he got
the bung out, and then all the wine ran out without the
driver noticing it. But once when he was looking behind
him he saw that the cart was dripping, and looked at the
barrels and saw that one of them was empty. " Unfortu-
nate fellow that 1 am," cried he. " Not unfortunate
enough yet," said the sparrow, and flew on to the head
of one of the horses and pecked his eyes out. When the
driver saw that, he drew out his axe and wanted to hit the
sjDarrow, but the sparrow flew into the air, and he hit
his horse on the head, and it fell down dead. " Oh,
what an unfortunate man I am," cried he. " Not unfor-
tunate enough yet," said the sparrow, and when the driver
drove on with the two horses, the sparrow again crept
under the cover, and pecked the bung out of the second
cask, so all the wine was spilt. When the driver became
aware of it, he again cried, " Oh, what an unfortunate man
I am," but the sparrow replied, " Not unfortunate enough
yet," and seated himself on the head of the second horse,
and pecked his eyes out. The driver ran up to it and
raised his axe to strike, but the sparrow flew in the air
and the blow struck the horse, which fell. " Oh, what an
unfortunate man I am." " Not unfortunate enough yet,"
said the sparrow, and lighted on the third horse's head, and
pecked out his eyes. The driver, in his rage, struck at tho

Tale 58.] THE DOG AND THE SPAKROW. 237

sparrow without looking round, and did not hit him, but
killed his third horse likewise. " Oh, what an unfortunate
man I am," cried he. " Not unfortunate enough yet," an-
swered the sparrow. " Now will I make thee unfortunate
in thy home," and flew away.

The driver had to leave the waggon standing, and full
of anger and vexation went home. " Ah," said he to his
wife, " what misfortunes I have had ! My wine has run
out, and the horses are all three dead ! " " Alas, husband,"
she answered, " what a malicious bird has come into the
house ! It has gathered together every bird there is in the
world, and they have fallen on our corn up there, and are
devouring it." Then he went upstairs, and thousands
and thousands of birds were sitting in the loft and had
eaten up all the corn, and the sparrow was sitting in the
midst of them. Then the driver cried, " Oh, what an un-
fortunate man I am?"

" Not unfortunate enough yet ! " answered the sparrow ;
" waggoner, it shall cost thee thy life as well," and flew
out.

Then the waggoner had lost all his property, and he
went downstairs into the room, sat down behind the stove
and was quite furious and bitter. But the sparrow sat
outside in front of the window, and cried, " Waggoner, it
shall cost thee thy life." Then the waggoner snatched
the axe and threw it at the sparrow, but it only broke the
window, and did not hit the bird. The sparrow now
hopped in, placed itself on the stove and cried, " Waggoner,
it shall cost thee thy life." The latter, quite mad and blind
with rage, smote the stove in twain, and as the sparrow flew
from one place to another so it fared with all his house-
hold furniture, looking-glass, benches, table, and at last
the walls of his house, and yet he could not hit the bird.
At length, however, he caught it with his hand. Then his
wife said, " Shall I kill it ? " " No," cried he, " that would
be too merciful. It shall die much more cruelly," and he
took it and swallowed it whole. The sparrow, however,
began to flutter about in his body, and flutteied up again
into the man's mouth ; then it stretched out its head, and
cried, " Waggoner, it shall still cost thee thy life." The
driver gave the axe to his wife, and said, " Wife, kill the

238 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 59.

bird in my moutli for me." Tlie woman struck, but missed
her blow, and hit the waggoner right on his head, so that
he fell dead. But the sparrow flew up and away.

59.— FEEDEEICK AND CATHEEINE.

There was once on a time a man who was called Frederick
and a woman called Catherine, who had married each other
and lived together as young married folks. One day
Frederick said, " I will now go and plough, Catherine ;
when I. come back, there must be some roast meat on the
table for hunger, and a fresh draught for thirst." " Just
go, Frederick," answered Kate, "just go, I will have all
ready for you." Therefore when dinner-time drew near
she got a sausage out of the chimney, put it in the frying-
pan, put some butter to it, and set it on the fire. The
sausage began to fry and to hiss, Catherine stood beside it
and held the handle of the pan, and had her own thoughts
as she was doing it. Then it occurred to her, " While the
sausage is getting done thou couldst go into the cellar and
draw beer." So she set the frying-pan safely on the fire,
took a. can, and went down into the cellar to draw beer.
The beer ran into the can and Kate watched it, and
then she thought, " Oh, dear ! The dog upstairs is not
fastened up, it might get the sausage out of the pan. Well
thought of." And in a trice she was up the cellar-steps
again, but the Spitz had the sausage in its mouth already,
and trailed it away on the ground. But Catherine, who
was not idle, set out after it, and chased it a long way into
the field ; the dog, however, was swifter than Catherine
and did not let the sausage journey easily, but skipped over
the furrows with it. " What's gone is gone ! " said Kate,
and turned round, and as she had run till she was weary,
she walked quietly and comfortably, and cooled herself.
During this time the beer was still running out of the
cask, for Kate had not turned the tap. And when the can
was full and there was no other place for it, it ran into the
cellar and did not stop until the whole cask was empty.

Tale 59.] FREDERICK AND CATHERINE. 239

As soon as Kate was on the steps she saw the mischance.
" Good gracious ! " she cried. " What shall I do now to
stop Frederick knowing it ! " She thought for a while,
and at last she remembered that up in the garret was
still standing a sack of the finest wheat flour from the last
fair, and she would fetch that down and strew it over the
beer. " Yes," said she, " he who saves a thing when he
ought, has it afterwards when he needs it," and she climbed
up to the garret and carried the sack below, and threw it
straight down on the can of beer, which she knocked
over, and Frederick's draught swam also in the cellar.
" It is all right," said Kate, " where the one is the other
ought to be also," and she strewed the meal over the
whole cellar. When it was done she was heartily delighted
with her work, and said, " How clean and wholesome it
does look here ! " At mid-day home came Frederick :
" Now, wife, what have you ready for me ? " " Ah, Freddy,"
she answered, " I was frying a sausage for you, but
whilst I was drawing the beer to drink with it, the dog
took it away out of the pan, and whilst I was running
after the dog, all the beer ran out, and whilst I was drying
up the beer with the flour, I knocked over the can as well,
but be easy, the cellar is quite dry again." Said Frederick,
" Kate, Kate, you should not have done that ! to let the
sausage be carried off" and the beer run out of the cask,
and throw out all our flour into the bargain ! " " Indeed,
Frederick, I did not know that, you should have told me."
The man thought, " If my wife is like this, I must look
after things more." Now he had got together a good
number of thalers which he changed into gold, and said to
Catherine, " Look, these are counters for playing games ; I
will put them in a pot and bury them in the stable under
the cow's manger, but mind you keep away from them,
or it will be the worse for you." Said she, " Oh, no,
Frederick, I certainly will not go." And when Frederick
was gone some pedlars came into the village who had
cheap earthen-bowls and pots, and asked the young
woman if there was nothing she wanted to bargain with
them for ? " Oh, dear people," said Catherine, " I have no
money and can buy nothing, but if you have any use for
yellow counters I will buy of you." " Yellow counters,

240 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 59.

why not? But just let us see them." "Then go into
the stable and dig under the cow's manger, and you
will find the yellow counters. I am not allowed to go
there." The rogues went thither, dug and found pure
gold. Then they laid hold of it, ran away, and left their
pots and bowls behind in the house. Catherine thought
she must use her new things, and as she had no lack in
the kitchen alreadj^ without these, she knocked the bottom
out of every pot, and set them all as ornaments on the
paling which went round about the house. When
Frederick came and saw the new decorations, he said,
" Catherine, what have you been about ? " "I have
bought them, Frederick, for the counters which were
Tinder the cow's manger. I did not go there myself, the
pedlars had to dig them out for themselves." " Ah,
wife," said Frederick, " what have you done ? Those
were not counters, but pure gold, and all our wealth ;
you should not have done that." " Indeed, Frederick,"
said slie, " I did not know that, you should have fore-
warned me."

Catherine stood for a while and bethought herself ; then
she said, "Listen, Frederick, we will soon get the gold
back again, we will run after the thieves." " Come, then,"
said Frederick, " we will try it ; but take with you some
butter and cheese that we may have something to eat
on the way." " Yes, Frederick, 1 will take them." They
set out, and as Frederick was the better walker, Catherine
followed him. "It is to my advantage," thought she,
" when we turn back I shall be a little way in advance."
Then she came to a hill where there were deep ruts
on both sides of the road. " There one can see," said
Catherine, " how they have torn and skinned and galled
the poor earth, it will never be whole again as long as
it lives," and in her heart's compassion she took her butter
and smeared the ruts right and left, that it might not be so
hurt by the wheels, and as she was thus bending down in
her charity, one of the cheeses rolled out of her pocket down
the hill. Said Catherine, " I haA^e made my way once up
here, I will not go down again ; another may run and
fetch it back." So she took another cheese and rolled it
down. But the cheeses did not come back, so she let a

Tale 59.] FEEDEEICK AND CATHERINE. 241

third rundown thinking, " Perhaps they are waiting for
company, and do not like to walk alone." As all three
stayed away she said " I do not know what that can mean
but It may perhaps be that the third has not found the
ZTT'^ ^^^T'^r^^g'I^i" j^st send the fourth to
^t n *u • ^"'"^ ^^^ °° 'setter than the third

Ihen Catherine was angry, and threw down the fifth and
sixth as well, and these were her last. She remained
standing for some time watching for their coming, but
when they still did not come, she said, "Oh, you ail good
folks to send m search of death, you stay^a fine fong
time away ! Do you think I will wait any longer for you^
I shall go my way you may run after me; you have
younger legs than I." Catherine went on 'and found
Frederick who was standing waiting for her because
he wanted something to eat. ^< Now juf t let ufhave what
you have brought with you," said he. She gave him
the dry bread. "Where have you the butter^and th"
cheeses ? "asked the man. " Ah, Freddy," said Catherine
"I smeared the cart-ruts with the butter and the cheeses
will come soon ; one ran away from me, so I sent the others
after to caU it." Said Frederick, " You should not have
done that, Catherine, to smear the butter on the road and
let the cheeses run down the hill ! " " Eeally, Frederick
you should have told me." Then they ate tL drTbread
together, and Frederick said, "Catherine, did yo? make
the house safe when you came away ? " " No Frederick
you should have told me to do it before." " Then Tt™:;
again, and make the house safe before we go any fartW

for vou"° "r*?/"" ^°"^*'^?^ '''' *° <^-'- I -ill wait here
foi you. Catherine went back and thought, " Frederick
wants something more to eat, he does not like butter and
cheese, so I wi 1 take with me a handkerchief full of dried
pears and a pitcher of vinegar for him to drink " Then
she bolted the upper half of the door fast, but unh nged the
fewer door, and took it on her back, beUeving that when

takenl^e'^f clT" '" f 7"^^ ^"^^ house must be wS
lajien caie ot. Catherine took her timp nn +1.^ ^ j

When she had once more got up to him she said " He™
VOL. ^;"^"'^°°'^ ^'' y""' Frederick, and now 'you .^^

R

242 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 59.

take care of the house yourself." *' Oh, heavens," said he,
" what a wise wife I have ! She takes the under-door off
the hinges that everything may run in, and bolts the upper
one. It is now too late to go back home again, but since
you have brought the door here, you shall just carry it
farther " " I will carry the door, Frederick, but the dried
pears and the vinegar-jug will be too heavy for me ; I
will hang them on the door, it may carry them.

And now they went into the forest, and sought the
rooues, but did not find them. At length as it grew dark
they climbed into a tree and resolved to spend the night
there. Scarcely, however, had they sat down at the top_ ol
it than the rascals came thither who carry away with
them what does not want to go, and find things before
they are lost. They sat down under the very tree m
which Frederick and Catherine were sitting, lighted a
fire, and were about to share their booty. Frederick got
down on the other side and collected some stones together.
Then he climbed up again with them, and wished to throw
them at the thieves and kill them. The stones, however,
did not hit them, and the knaves cried, " It aviU soon
be morning, the wind is shaking down the fir-apples.
Catherine still had the door on her back, and as it pressed
so heavily on her, she thought it was the fault of the
dried pears, and said, " Frederick, I must throw the
pears down." " No, Catherine, not now," he replied, " they
Wht betray us." " Oh, but, Frederick, I must ! They
weio-h me down far too much." " Do it, then, and be
han?-ed ' " Then the dried pears rolled down between the
branches, and the rascals below said, " The leaves are

A short time afterwards, as the door was still heavy,
Catherine said, "Ah, Frederick, I must pour out the
vinegar." " No, Catherine, you must not, it might betray
ns " " Ah, but, Frederick, I must, it weighs me down
far too much." " Then do it and be hanged! " So she
emptied out the vinegar, and it besprinkled the robbers.
They said amongst themselves, "The dew is already
falling." At length Catherine thought, " Can it really
be the door which weighs me down so?" and said,
*' Frederick, I must throw the door down." "No, not

Tale 59.] FEEDERICK AND CATHERINE. 243

now, Catherine, it might discover ns." " Oh, but, Frederick,
I must. It weighs me down far too much." "Oh, no,
Catherine, do hold it fast." "Ah, Frederick, I am let-
ting it fall!" "Let it go, then, in the devil's name."
Then it fell down with a violent clatter, and the rascals
below cried, " The devil is coming down the tree ! " and they
ran away and left everything behind them. Early next
morning, when the two came down they found all their
gold again, and carried it home.

When they were once more at home, Frederick said,
" And now, Catherine, you, too, must be industrious and
work." " Yes, Frederick, I will soon do that, I will go
into the field and cut corn." When Catherine got into
the field, she said to herself, " Shall I eat before I cut, or
shall I sleep before I cut ? Oh, I will eat first." Then
Catherine ate and eating made her sleepy, and she began
to cut, aud half in a dream cut all her clothes to pieces,
her apron, her gown, and her shift. When Catherine
awoke again after a long sleep she was standing there
half-naked, and said to herself, "Is it I, or is it not I ?
Alas, it is not I." In the meantime night came, and
Catherine ran into the village, knocked at her husband's
window, and cried, " Frederick."

" What is the matter ? " "I should very much like to
know if Catherine is in ? " " Yes, yes," replied Frederick,
" she must be in and asleep."

Said she, " 'Tis well, then I am certainly at home
already," and ran away.

Outside Catherine found some vagabonds who were
going to steal. Then she went to them and said, " I will
help you to steal." The rascals thought that she knew
the situation of the place, and were willing. Catherine
went in front of the houses, and cried, " Good folks, have
you anything ? We want to steal." The thieves thought
to^ themselves, " That's a fine way of doing things," and
wished themselves once more rid of Catherine. Then they
said to her, "Outside the village the pastor has some
turnips in the field. Go there and pull up some turnips
for us." Catherine went to the ground, and began to pull
them up, but was so idle that she did not gather them
together. Then a man came by, saw her, and stood still

E 2

244 geimm's household tales. [tale 60.

and thotiglit that it was the devil who was thus rooting
amongst the turnips. He ran away into the village to the
pastor, and said, " Mr. Pastor, the devil is in your turnip-
ground, rooting up turnips." " Ah, heavens," answered the
pastor, " I have a lame foot, I cannot go out and drive
him away." Said the man, " Then I will carry you on
my back," and he carried him out on his back. And when
they came to the ground, Catherine arose and stood up
her full height. " Ah, the devil ! " cried the pastor, and
both hurried away, and in his great fright the pastor
could run better with his lame foot than the man who
had carried him on his back could do with his sound one.

60.— THE TWO BROTHERS.

There were once upon a time two brothers, one rich and
the other poor. The rich one was a goldsmith and evil-
hearted. The poor one supported himself by making
brooms, and was good and honourable. The poor one had
two children, who were twin brothers and as like each
other as two drops of water. The two boys went back-
wards and forwards to the rich house, and often got some
of the scraps to eat. It happened once when the poor
man was going into the forest to fetch brush- wood, that
he saw a bird which was quite golden and more beautiful
than anj^ he had ever before chanced to meet with. He
picked up a small stone, threw it at him, and was lucky
enough to hit him, but one golden feather only fell down,
and the bird flew away. The man took the feather and
carried it to his brother, who looked at it and said, " It is
pure gold ! " and gave him a great deal of money for it.
Next day the man climbed into a birch-tree, and was
about to cut off a couple of branches when the same bird
flew out, and when the man searched he found a nest, and
an egg lay inside it, which was of gold. He took the egg
home with him, and carried it to his brother, who again
said, " It is pure gold," and gave him what it was worth.
At last the goldsmith said, " I should indeed like to have

Tale 60.] THE TWO BROTHERS. 245

the bird itself." The poor man went into the forest for
the third time, and again saw the golden bird sitting on
the tree, so he took a stone and brought it down and
carried it to his brother, who gave him a great heap of
gold for it. " Now I can get on," tliought he, and went
contentedly home.

The goldsmith was crafty and cunning, and knew very
well what kind of a bird it was. He called his wife and
said, " Eoast me the gold bird, and take care that none of
it is lost. I have a fancy to eat it all myself." The bird
was, however, no common one, but of so wondrous a kind
that whosoever ate his heart and liver found every
morning a piece of gold beneath his pillow. The woman
made the bird ready, put it on the spit, and let it roast.
Now it happened that while it was at the fire, and the
woman was forced to go out of the kitchen on account of
some other work, the two children of the poor broom-
maker ran in, stood by the spit and turned it round once
or twice. And as at that very moment two little bits
of the bird fell down into the dripping-tin, one of the
boys said, "We will eat these two little bits; I am
so hungry, and no one will ever miss themi" Then
the two ate the pieces, but the woman came to them and
saw that they were eating something and said, " What
have ye been eating ? " " Two little morsels which fell
out of the bird," answered they. " That must have been
the heart and the liver," said the woman, quite frightened,
and in order that her husband might not miss them and
be angry, she quickly killed a young cock, took out his
heart and liver, and put them beside the golden bird.
When it was ready, she carried it to the goldsmith, who
consumed it all alone, and left none of it. Next mornins:,
however, when he felt beneath his pillow, and expected
to bring out the piece of gold, no more gold pieces were
there than there had always been.

The two children did not know what a piece of good-
fortune had fallen to their lot. Next morning when they
arose, something fell rattling to the ground, and when
they picked it up there were two gold pieces ! They
took them to their father, who was astonished and said,
"How can that have happened?" When next morning

246 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 60.

tliey again found two, and so on daily, lie went to his
brother and told him the strange story. The goldsmith
at once knew how it had come to pass, and that the
children had eaten the heart and liver of the golden bird,
and in order to revenge himself, and because he M^as
envious and hard-hearted, he said to the father, " Thy
children are in league with the Evil One, do not take the
gold, and do not suffer them to stay any longer in thy
house, for he has them in his power, and may ruin thee
likewise." The father feared the Evil One, and painful as
it was to him, he nevertheless led the twins forth into the
forest, and with a sad heai't left them there.

And now the two children ran about the forest, and
sought the way home again, but could not find it, and
(mly lost themselves more and more. At length they met
with a huntsman, who asked, " To whom do you children
belong ? " " We are the poor broom-maker's boys," they
replied, and they told him that their father would not
keep them any longer in the house because a piece of gold
lay every morning under their pillows. " Come," said
the huntsman, " that is nothing so very bad, if at the
same time you keep honest, and are not idle." As the
good man liked the children, and had none of his own, he
took them home with him and said, " I will be your
father, and bring you up till you are big." They learnt
huntsmanship from him, and the piece of gold which
each of them found when he awoke, was kept for them
by him in case they should need it in the future.

When they were grown up, their foster-father one day
took them into the forest with him, and said, " To-day
shall you make your trial shot, so that I may release you
from your apprenticeshi]3, and make you huntsmen."
They went with him to lie in wait and stayed there a
long time, but no game appeared. The huntsman, how-
ever, looked above him, and saw a covey of wild geese
flying in the form of a triangle, and said to one of them,
" Shoot me dowm one from each corner." He did it, and
thus accomplished his trial shot. Soon after another
covey came flying by in the form of the figure two, and
the huntsman bade the other also bring down one from
each corner, and his trial shot was likewise successful.

Tale 60.] THE TWO BKOTHERS. 247

" Now," said the foster-father, " I pronounce you ont of your
apprenticeship ; you are skilled huntsmen." Thereupon
the two brothers went forth together into the forest, and
took counsel with each other and planned something.
And in the evening when they had sat down to supper,
they said to their foster-father, " We will not touch food,
or take one mouthful, until you have granted us a
request." Said he, "What, then, is your request?"
They replied, " We have now finished learning, and we
must prove ourselves in the world, so allow us to go away
aad travel." Then spake the old man joyfully, " You
talk like brave huntsmen, that which you desire h^s been
my wish ; go forth, all will go well with you." There-
upon they ate and drank joyously together.

When the appointed day came, their foster-father
presented each of them with a good gun and a dog, and
let each of them take as many of his saved-up gold pieces
as he chose. Then he accompanied them a part of the
way, and when taking leave, he gave them a bright
knife, and said, " If ever you separate, stick this knife into
a tree at the place where you part, and then when one of
you goes back, he will be able to see how his absent brother
is faring, for the side of the knife which is turned in the
direction by which he went, will rust if he dies, but will
remain bright as long as he is alive." Tlie two brothers
went still farther onwards, and came to a forest which was
so large that it was impossible for them to get out of it in
one day. So they passed the night in it, and ate what
they had put in their hunting-pouches, but they walked
all the second day likewise, and still did not get out. As
they had nothing to eat, one of them said, " We must shoot
something for ourselves or we shall suffer from hunger,"
and loaded his gun, and looked about him. And when an
old hare came running up towards them, he laid his gun
on his shoulder, but the hare cried,

"Dear huntsmen, do but let me live,
Two little ones to thee I'll give,"

and sprang instantly into the thicket, and brought two
young ones. But the little creatures played so merrily,
and were so pretty, that the huntsmen could not find it in

248 GKIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 60.

their hearts to kill them. They therefore kept them with
them, and the little hares followed behind on foot. Soon
after this, a fox crept past ; they were just going to shoot
it, but the fox cried,

*' Dear huntsmen, do but let me live.
Two little ones I'll also give."

He, too, brought two little foxes, and the huntsmen did
not like to kill them either, but gave them to the hares
for company, and they followed behind. It was not long
before a wolf strode out of the thicket ; the huntsmen
made ready to shoot him, but the wolf cried,

"Dear huntsmen, do but let me live,
Two little ones I'll likewise give."

The huntsmen put the two wolves beside the othei
animals, and they followed behind them. Then a bear
came who wanted to trot about a little longer, and cried :

"Dear huntsmen, do but let me live,
Two little ones I, too, will give."

The two young bears were added to the others, and there
were already eight of them. At length who came? A
lion came, and tossed his mane. But the huntsmen did
not let themselves be frightened and aimed at him like-
wise, but the lion also said,

" Dear huntsmen, do but let me live,
Two little ones I, too, will give."

And he brought his little ones to them, and now the
huntsmen had two lions, two bears, two wolves, two
foxes, and two hares, who followed them and served them.
In the meantime their hunger was not appeased by this,
and they said to the foxes, " Hark ye, cunning fellows,
provide us with something to eat. You are crafty and
deep." They replied, "Not far from here lies a village,
from which we have already brought many a fowl;
we will show you the way there." So they went
into the village, bought themselves something to eat,
had some food given to their beasts, and then travelled

Tale 60.] THE TWO BROTHERS. 249

onwards. The foxes, however, knew their way very well
about the district and where the poultry-yards were, and
were able to guide the huntsmen.

Now they travelled about for a while, but could find
no situations where they could remain together, so they
said "There is nothing else for it, we must part." They
divided the animals, so that each of them had a lion a
bear, a wolf, a fox, and a hare, then they took leave of
each other, promised to love each other like brothers till
their death and stuck the knife which their foster-father
had given them, into a tree, after which one went east,
and the other west.

The younger, however, arrived with his beasts in a
town which was all hung with black crape. He went
into an mn,^ and asked the host if he could accommo-
date his animals. The innkeeper gave him a stable
where there ^as a hole in the wall, and the hare crept out
and fetched himself the head of a cabbage, and the fox
fetched himself a hen, and when he had devoured that
got the cock as well, but the wolf, the bear, and the lion
could not get out because they were too bio-. Then the
innkeeper let them be taken to a place whe?e a cow was
just then lying on the grass, that they might eat till
they were satisfied. And when the huntsman had taken
care of his animals, he asked the innkeeper why the
town was thus hung with black crape? Said the host
Because our King's only daughter is to die to-morrow ''
llie huntsman inquired if she was " sick unto death ^ »
No, answered the host, "she is vigorous and healthy
nevertheless she must die ! " " How is that ? " asked the
huntsman "There is a high hill without the town,
whereon dwells a dragon who every year must have a
pure virgin, or he lays the whole country waste, and now
all the maidens have already been given to him, and
there is no longer any one left but the King's daughter
yet there IS no mercy for her; she must be given up to
him, and that IS to be done to-morrow." Said the hunts-
man. Why IS the dragon not killed ? " " Ah " replied
the host, " so many knights have tried it, but it has cost
all of them their lives. The King has promised that he
who conquers the dragon shall have his daughter to wife

250 GKIMM'S household tales. [Tale 60.

and shall likewise govern the kingdom after his own
death."

The huntsman said nothing more to this, but next
morning took his animals, and with them ascended the
dragon's hill. A little church stood at the top of it,
and on the altar three full cups were standing, with the
inscription, "Whosoever empties the cups will become
the strongest man on earth, and will be able to wield the
sword which is buried before the threshold of the door."
The huntsman did not drink, but went out and sought
for the sword in the ground, but was unable to move
it from its place. Then he went in and emptied the cups,
and now he was strong enough to take up the sword, and
his hand could quite easily wield it. When the hour
came when the maiden was to be delivered over to the
dragon, the King, the marshal, and courtiers accom-
panied her. From afar she saw the huntsman on the
dragon's hill, and thought it was the dragon standing
there waiting for her, and did not want to go up to him,
but at last, because otherwise the whole town would have
been destroyed, she was forced to go the miserable journey.
The King and courtiers returned home full of grief; the
King's marshal, however, was to stand still, and see all
from a distance.

When the King's daughter got to the top of the hill,
it was not the dragon which stood there, but the young
huntsman, who comforted her, and said he would save
her, led her into the church, and locked her in. It_ was
not long before the seven-headed dragon came thither
with loud roaring. When he perceived the huntsman, he
was astonished and said, " What business hast thou here
on the hill ? " The huntsman answered, " I want to fight
with thee." Said the dragon, " Many knights have left
their lives here, I shall soon have made an end of thee
too," and he breathed fire out of seven jaws. The fire was
to have lighted the dry grass, and the huntsman was to
have been suffocated in the heat and smoke, but the
animals came running up and trampled out the fire.
Then the dragon rushed upon the huntsman, but he
swung his sword until it sang through the air, and struck
off three of his heads. Then the dragon grew right

Tale CO.] THE TWO BEOTHERS. 251

furious, and rose up in the air, and spat out flames of fire
oyer the huntsman, and was about to plunge down on
him, but the huntsman once more drew out his sword,
and again cut off three of his heads. The monster became
faint and sank down, nevertheless it was just goino- to
rush upon the huntsman, but he with his last strength
smote its tail off, and as he could fight no longer,
called up his animals who tore it in pieces. When^the
struggle was ended, the huntsman unlocked the church,
and found the King's daughter lying on the floor, as she
had lost her senses with anguish and terror during the
contest. He carried her out, and when she came to
herself once more, and opened her eyes, he showed her
the dragon all cut to pieces, and told her that she was
now delivered. She rejoiced and said, "Now thou wilt
be my dearest husband, for my father has promised me
to him who kills the dragon." Thereupon she took off her
necklace of coral, and divided it amongst the animals in
order to reward them, and the lion received the golden
clasp. Her pocket-handkerchief, however, on which was
her name, she gave to the huntsman, who went and cut
the tongues out of the dragon's seven heads, wrapped
them m the handkerchief, and preserved them carefully.

That done, as he was so faint and weary with the fire
and the battle, he said to the maiden, " We are both faint
and weary, we will sleep awhile." Then she said " yes,"
and they lay down on the ground, and the huntsman said
to the lion, " Thou shalt keep watch, that no one surprises
us m our sleep," and both fell asleep. The lion lay down
beside them to watch, but he also was so weary with the
fight, that he called to the bear and said, " Lie down near
me,^^ I must sleep a little : if anything comes, waken
me." ^ Then the bear lay down beside him, but he also
was tired, and called the wolf and said, " Lie down by me, I
must sleep a little, but if anything comes, waken me." Then
the wolf lay down by him, but he was tired likewise, and
called the fox and said, " Lie down by me, I must sleep
a little ; if anything comes, waken me." Then the fox
lay down beside him, but he too was weary, and called the
hare and said, " Lie down near me, I must sleep a little,
and if anything should come, waken me." Then the hare

252 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 60.

sat down by him, but the poor hare was tired too, and bad
no one whom be could call tbere to keep watcb, and fell
asleep. And now tbe King's daughter, the huntsman, the
lion, tbe bear, the wolf, the fox, and the hare, were all
sleeping a sound sleep. I'he marshal, however, who was
to look on from a distance, took courage when he did
not see the dragon flying away with the maiden, and
finding that all the hill had become quiet, ascended it.
There lay the dragon hacked and hewn to pieces on the
ground, and not far from it were the King's daughter
and a huntsman with his animals, and all of them were
sunk in a sound sleep. And as he was wicked and godless
be took bis sword, cut off the huntsman's head, and seized
the maiden in his arms, and carried her down the hill.
Then she awoke and was terrified, but tbe marshal said,
" Thou art in my hands, thou shalt say that it was I who
killed the dragon." " I cannot do that," she replied, " for
it was a huntsman with his animals who did it." Then
be drew bis sword, and threatened to kill her if she did
not obey him, and so compelled her that she promised it.
Then he took her to the King, who did not know how to
contain himself for joy when be once more looked on bis
dear child in life, whom he bad believed to have been torn to
pieces by tbe monster. The marshal said to him, " I have
killed the dragon, and delivered the maiden and the
whole kingdom as well, therefore I demand her as my
wife, as was promised." The King said to the maiden, " Is
what he says true ? " " Ah, yes," she answered, " it must
indeed be true, but I will not consent to have the wedding
celebrated until after a year and a day," for she thought
in that time she should hear something of her dear
huntsman.

The animals, however, were still lying sleeping beside
their dead master on the dragon's hill, and there came a
great humble-bee and lighted on the hare's nose, but the
bare wiped it off with his paw, and went on sleeping.
Tbe bumble-bee came a second time, but tbe hare again
rubbed it oft" and slept on. Then it came for the third
time, and stung his nose so that he awoke. As soon as the
bare was awake, he roused the fox, and the fox the wolf,
and the wolf the bear, and the bear the lion. And when

Tale 60.] THE TWO BROTHERS. 253

the lion awoke and saw that the maiden was gone, and his
master was dead, he began to roar frightfully and cried,
" Who has done that ? Bear, why didst thou not waken
me ? " The bear asked the wolf, " Why didst thou not
waken me ? " and the wolf the fox, " Why didst thou not
waken me ? " and the fox the hare, " Why didst thou
not waken me ? " The poor hare alone did not know M'hat
answer to make, and the blame rested with him. Then
they were just going to fall upon him, but he entreated
them and said, " Kill me not, I will bring our master to
life again. I know a mountain on which a root grows
which, when placed in the mouth of any one, cures him of
all illness and every wound. But the mountain lies two
hundred hours' journey from here." The lion said, " In
four-and-twenty hours must thou have run thither and
have come back, and have brought the root with thee."
Then the hare sprang away, and in four-and-twenty hours
he was back, and brought the root with him. The lion
put the huntsman's head on again, and the hare placed
the root in his mouth, and immediately everything united
together again, and his heart beat, and life came back.
Then the huntsman awoke, and was alarmed when he did
not see the maiden, and thought, " She must have gone
away whilst I was sleeping, in order to get rid of me."
The lion in his great haste had put his master's head on
the wrong way round, but the huntsman did not observe
it because of his melancholy thoughts about the King's
daughter. But at noon, when he was going to eat some-
thing, he saw that his head was turned backwards and
could not understand it, and asked the animals what had
happened to him in his sleep. Then the lion told him
that they, too, had all fallen asleep from weariness, and on
awaking, had found him dead with his head cut off, that
the hare had brought the life-giving root, and that he, in
his haste, had laid hold of the head the wrong way, but
that he would repair his mistake. Then he tore the
huntsman's head off again, turned it round, and the hare
healed it with the root.

The huntsman, however, was sad at heart, and travelled
about the world, and made his animals dance before
people. It came to pass that precisely at the end of one

254 grimm's household tales. [tale 60.

year he came back to the same town where he had de-
livered the King's daughter from the dragon, and this
time the town was gaily hung with red cloth. Then he
said to the host, " What does this mean ? Last year the
town was all hung with black crape, what means the red
cloth to-day ? " The host answered, " Last year our King's
daughter was to have been delivered over to the dragon,
but the marshal fought with it and killed it, and so to-
morrow their wedding is to be solemnized, and that is
why the town was then hung with black crape for mourn-
ing, and is to-day covered with red cloth for joy."

Next day when the wedding was to take place, the
huntsman said at mid-day to the inn-keeper, " Do you
believe, sir host, that I while with you here to-day shall
eat bread from the King's own table ? " " Nay," said the
host, " I would bet a hundred pieces of gold that that will
not come true." The huntsman accepted the wager, and
set against it a purse with just the same number of gold
pieces. Then he called the hare and said, " Go, my dear
runner, and fetch me some of the bread which the King
is eating." Now the little hare was the lowest of the
animals, and could not transfer this order to any of the
others, but had to get on his legs himself. " Alas ! " thought
he, " if I bound through the streets thus alone, the butchers'
dogs will all be after me." It happened as he expected,
and the dogs came after him and wanted to make holes in
his good skin. But he sprang away, have you never seen
one running ? and sheltered himself in a sentry-box without
the soldier being aware of it. Then the dogs came and
wanted to have him out, but the soldier did not understand
a jest, and struck them with the butt-end of his gun, till
they ran away yelling and howling. As soon as the hare
saw that the way was clear, he ran into the palace and
straight to the King's daughter, sat down under her chair,
and scratched at her foot. Then she said, " Wilt thou get
away ? " and thought it was her dog. The hare scratched
her foot for the second time, and she again said, " Wilt thou
get away ? " and thought it was her dog. But the hare did
not let itself be turned from its purpose, and scratched her
for the third time, then she peeped down, and knew the
hare by its collar. She took him on her lap, carried him

Tale 60.] THE TWO BROTHERS. 255

into her chamber, and said, " Dear Hare, what dost thou
want?" He answered, "My master, who killed the dra-
gon, is here, and has sent me to ask for a loaf of bread
like that which the King eats." Then she was full of joy
and had the baker summoned, and ordered him to bring a
loaf such as was eaten by the King. The little hare said,
" But the baker must likewise carry it thither for me,
that the butchers' dogs may do no harm to me." The baker
carried it for him as far as the door of the inn, and then
the hare got on his hind legs, took the loaf in his front
paws, and carried it to his master. Then said the hunts-
man, "Behold, sir host, the hundred pieces of gold are
mine." The host was astonished, but the huntsman went
on to say, " Yes, sir host, I have the bread, but now I will
likewise have some of the King's roast meat."

The host said, " I should indeed like to see that," but
he would make no more wagers. The huntsman called
the fox and said, " My little fox, go and fetch me some
roast meat, such as the King eats." The red fox knew
the bye-ways better, and went by holes and corners
without any dog seeing him, seated himself under the
chair of the King's daughter, and scratched her foot.
Then she looked down and recognized the fox by its
collar, took him into her chamber with her, and said,
" Dear Fox, what dost thou want ? " He answered, " My
master, who killed the dragon, is here, and has sent me.
I am to ask for some roast meat such as the King is
eating." Then she made the cook come, who was obliged
to prepare a roast joint, the same as was eaten by the
King, and to carry it for the fox as far as the door. Then
the fox took the dish, waved away with his tail the flies
which had settled on the meat, and then carried it to his
master. " Behold, sir host," said the huntsman, " bread
and meat are here, but now I will also have proper vege-
tables with it, such as are eaten by the King," Then
he called the wolf, and said, " Dear Wolf, go thither and
fetch me vegetables such as the King eats." Then the
wolf went straight to the palace, as he feared no one, and
when he got to the King's daughter's chamber, he twitched
at the back of her dress, so that she was forced to look round.
She recognized him by his collar, and took him into her

256 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 60.

cliamber witli her, and said, " Dear Wolf, what dost thou
want?" He answered, "My master, who killed the
dragon, is here, I am to ask for some vegetables, snch as
the King eats." Then she made the cook come, and he
had to make ready a dish of vegetables, snch as the King
ate, and had to carry it for the wolf as far as the door, and
then the wolf took the dish from him, and carried it to his
master. " Behold, sir host," said the huntsman, "now I
have bread and meat and vegetables, but I will also have
some pastry to eat like that which the King eats." He.
called the bear, and said, " Dear Bear, thou art fond of
licking anything sweet ; go and bring me some con-
fectionery, such as the King eats." Then the bear trotted
to the palace, and every one got out of his way, but when
he went to the guard, they presented their muskets, and
would not let him go into the royal palace. But he got
up on his hind legs, and gave them a few boxes on the
ears, right and left, with his paws, so that the whole
watch broke up, and then he went straight to the King's
daughter, placed himself behind her, and growled a little.
Then she looked behind her, knew the bear, and bade
him go into her room with her, and said, " Dear Bear,
what dost thou want ? " He answered, " My master, who
killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask for some con-
fectionery such as the King eats." Then she summoned
her confectioner, who had to bake confectionery such as the
King ate, and carry it to the door for the bear ; then the
bear first licked up the comfits which had rolled down, and
then he stood upright, took the dish, and carried it to his
master. " Behold, sir host," said the huntsman, " now I
have bread, meat, vegetables and confectionery, but I will
drink wine also, and such as the King drinks." He called
his lion to him and said, " Dear Lion, thou thyself likest to
drink till thou art intoxicated, go and fetch me some wine,
such as is drunk by the King." Then the lion strode
through the streets, and the people fled from him, and
when he came to the watch, they wanted to bar the way
against him, but he did but roar once, and they all ran
away. Then the lion went to the royal apartment, and
knocked at the door with his tail. Then the King's
daughter came forth, and was almost afraid of the lion,

Tale 60.] TilE TWO BROTHERS. 257

but she knew him by the golden clasp of her necklace, and
bade him go with her into her chamber, and said, " Dear
Lion, what wilt thou have ? " He answered, " My master,
who killed the dragon, is here, and I am to ask for some
wine such as is drunk by the King," Then she bade the
cup-bearer be called, who was to give the lion some wine
like that which was drunk by the King. The lion said, " I
will go with him, and see that I get the right wine."
Then he went down with the cup-bearer, and when they
were below, the cup-bearer wanted to draw him some of
the common wine that was drunk by the King's servants ;
but the lion said, " Stop, I will taste the wine first," and
he drew half a measure, and swallowed it down at one
draught. " No," said he, " that is not right." The cup-
bearer looked at him askance, but went on, and w^as
about to give him some out of another barrel which was
for the King's marshal. The lion said, " Stop, let me taste
the wine first," and drew half a measure and drank it.
*' That is better, but still not right," said he. Then the
cup-bearer grew angry and said, "How can a stupid
animal like you understand wine ?" But the lion gave
him a blow behind the ears, which made him fall down
by no means gently, and when he had got up again, he
conducted the lion quite silently into a little cellar apart,
where the King's wine lay, from which no one ever drank.
The lion first drew half a measure and tried the wine, and
then he said, " That may possibly be the right sort," and
bade the cup-bearer fill six bottles of it. And now they
went iipstairs again, but when the lion came out of the
cellar into the open air, he reeled here and there, and was
rather drunk, and the cup-bearer was forced to carry the
wine as far as the door for him, and then the lion took the
handle of the basket in his mouth, and took it to his
master. The huntsman said, " Behold, sir host, here have
I bread, meat, vegetables, confectionery and wine such as
the King has, and now I will dine with my animals," and
he sat down and ate and drank, and gave the hare, the
fox, the wolf, the bear, and the lion also to eat and to
dnnk, and was joyful, for he saw that the King's daughter
Btill loved him. And when he had finished his dinner, he
said, " Sir host, now have I eaten and drunk, as the Kin^
VOL. I. s °

258 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 60.

eats and drinks, and now I will go to the King's court and
marry the King's daughter." ISaid the host, " How can
that be, when she already has a betrothed husband, and
when the wedding is to be solemnized to-day ? " Then
the huntsman drew forth the handkerchief which the
King's daughter had given him on the dragon's hill, and
in which were folded the monster's seven tongues, and
said, " That which I hold in my hand shall help me to do
it." Then the innkeeper looked at the handkerchief, and
said, " Whatever I believe, I do not believe that, and I am
willing to stake my house and courtyard on it." The
huntsman, however, took a bag with a thousand gold
pieces, put it on the table, and said, " I stake that on it.'*

Now the King said to his daughter, at the royal table,
" What did all the wild animals want, which have been
coming to thee, and goiu g in and out of my palace ? "
She replied, " I may not tell you, but send and have
the master of these animals brought, and you will do
well." The King sent a servant to the inn, and invited
the stranger, and the servant came just as the huntsman
had laid his wager with the innkeeper. Then said he,
" Behold, sir host, now the King sends his servant and
invites me, but I do not go in this way." And he said to
the servant, " I request the Lord King to send me royal
clothing, and a carriage with six horses, and servants to
attend me." When the King heard the answer, he said to
his daughter, "What shall I do?" She said, "Cause
him to be fetched as he desires to be, and you will do
well." Then the King sent royal apparel, a carriage with
six horses, and servants to wait on him. When the
huntsman saw them coming, he said, " Behold, sir host,
now I am fetched as I desired to be," and he put on the
royal garments, took the handkerchief with the dragon's
tongues with him, and drove off to the King. When the
King saw him coming, he said to his daughter, " How shall
I receive him ? " She answered, " Go to meet him and you
will do well." Then the King went to meet him and led
him in, and his animals followed. The King gave him
a seat near himself and his daughter, and the marshal,
as bridegroom, sat on the other side, but no longer knew
the huntsman. And now at this very moment, the seven

Tale 60.] THE TWO BKOTHEES. 259

heads of the dragon were brought in as a spectacle, and
the King said, " The seven heads were cut off the dra-
gon by the marshal, wherefore to-day I give him my
daughter to wife." Then the huntsman stood up, opened
the seven mouths, and said, " Where are the seven tongues
of the dragon ? " Then was the marshal terrified, and
grew pale and knew not what answer he should make,
and at length in his anguish he said, " Dragons have no
tongues." The huntsman said, " Liars ought to have
none, but the dragon's tongues are the tokens of the
victor," and he unfolded the handkerchief, and there lay
all seven inside it. And he put each tongue in the
mouth to which it belonged, and it fitted exactly. Then
he took the handkerchief on which the name of the
princess was embroidered, and showed it to the maiden,
and asked to whom she had given it, and she replied,
" To him who killed the dragon." And then he called
his animals, and took the collar off each of them and the
golden clasp from the lion, and showed them to the
maiden and asked to whom they belonged. She answered,
" The necklace and golden clasp were mine, but I divided
them among the animals who helped to conquer the
dragon." Then spake the huntsman, " When I, tired
with the fight, was resting and sleeping, the marshal
came and cut off my head. Then he carried away the
King's daughter, and gave out that it was he who had
killed the dragon, but that he lied I prove with the
tongues, the handkerchief, and the necklace." And then
he related how his animals had healed him by means of
a wonderful root, and how he had travelled about with
them for one year, and had at length again come there
and had learnt the treachery of the marshal by the
inn-keeper's story. Then the King asked his daughter,
" Is it true that this man killed the dragon ? " And she
answered, " Yes, it is true. Now can I reveal the wicked
deed of the marshal, as it has come to light without my
connivance, for he wrung from me a promise to be silent.
For this reason, however, did I make the condition that
the marriage should not be solemnized for a year and a
day." Then the King bade twelve councillors be sum-
moned who were to pronounce judgment on the marshal,

s 2

260 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 60.

and they sentenced him to be torn to pieces by four bulls.
The marshal was therefore executed, but the King gave
his daughter to the huntsman, and named him his viceroy
over the whole kingdom. The wedding was celebrated
with great joy, and the young King caused his father
and his foster-father to be brought, and loaded them
with treasures. Neither did he forget the inn-keeper,
but sent for him and said, " Behold, sir host, I have
married the King's daughter, and your house and yard
are mine." The host said, " Yes, according to justice
it is so." But the young King said, " It shall be done
according to mercy," and told him that he should keep
his house and yard, and gave him the thousand pieces
of gold as well.

And now the young King and Queen were thoroughly
happy, and lived in gladness together. He often went
out hunting because it was a delight to him, and the
faithful animals had to accompany him. In the neigh-
bourhood, however, there was a forest of which it was
reported that it was haunted, and that whosoever did but
enter it did not easily get out again. The young King,
however, had a great inclination to hunt in it, and let the
old King have no peace until he allowed him to do so.
So he rode forth with a great following, and when he
came to the forest, he saw a snow-white hart, and
said to his people, " Wait here until I return, I want to
chase that beautiful creature," and he rode into the forest
after it, followed only by his animals. The attendants
halted and waited until evening, but he did not re-
turn, so they rode home, and told the young Queen that the
young King had followed a white hart into the enchanted
forest, and had not come back again. Then she was in
the greatest concern about him. He, however, had still
continued to ride on and on after the beautiful wild
animal, and had never been able to overtake it ; when he
thought he was near enough to aim, he instantly saw
it bound away into the far distance, and at length it
vanished altogether. And now he perceived that he had
penetrated deep into the forest, and blew his horn but he
received no answer, for his attendants could not hear it.
And as night, too, was falling, he saw that he could not

Tale 60.] THE TWO BROTHERS. 261

get home tliat day, so he dismounted from his horse, lighted
himself a fire near a tree, and resolved to spend the
night by it. While he was sitting by the fire, and his
animals also were lying down beside him, it seemed to
him that he heard a hnman voice. He looked round, but
could perceive nothing. Soon afterwards, he again heard
a groan as if from above, and then he looked up, and saw
an old woman sitting in the tree, who wailed unceasingly,
" Oh, oh, oh, how cold I am ! " Said he, " Come down,
and warm thyself if thou art cold." But she said, " No,
thy animals will bite me." He answered, " They will do
thee no harm, old mother, do come down." She, however,
was a witch, and said, " I will throw down a wand from
the tree, and if thou strikest them on the back with it,
they will do me no harm." Then she threw him a small
wand, and he struck them with it, and instantly they
lay still and were turned into stone. And when the
witch was safe from the animals, she leapt down and
touched him also with a wand, and changed him to stone.
Thereupon she laughed, and dragged him and the
animals into a vault, where many more such stones already
lay.

As, however, the young King did not come back at all,
the Queen's anguish and care grew constantly greater.
And it so happened that at this very time the other
brother who had turned to the east when they separated,
came into the kingdom. He had sought a situation, and
had found none, and had then travelled about here and
there, and had made his animals dance. Then it came
into his mind that he would just go and look at the knife
that they had thrust in the trunk of a tree at their
parting, that he might learn how his brother was. When
he got there his brother's side of the knife was half
rusted, and half bright. Then he was alarmed and
thought, "A great misfortune must have befallen my
brother, but perhaps I can still save him, for half the
knife is still bright." He and his animals travelled
towards the west, and when he entered the gate of the
town, the guard came to meet him, and asked if he was
to announce him to his consort the young Queen, who had
for a couple of days been in the greatest sorrow about his

262 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 60.

staying away, and was afraid lie liad been killed in tlie
enchanted forest ? The sentries, indeed, thought no
otherwise than that he was the young King himself,
for he looked so like him, and had wild animals running
behind him. Then he saw that they were speaking of
his brother, and thought, " It will be better if I pass
myself off for him, and then I can rescue him more easily."
So he allowed himself to be escorted into the castle by
the guard, and was received with the greatest joy. The
young Queen indeed thought that he was her husband,
and asked him why he had stayed away so long.
He answered, " I had lost myself in a forest, and could
not find my way out again any sooner." At night he was
taken to the royal bed, but he laid a two-edged sword
between him and the young Queen ; she did not know
what that could mean, but did not venture to ask.

He remained in the palace a couple of days, and in the
meantime inquired into everything which related to the
enchanted forest, and at last he said, " I must hunt there
once more." The King and the young Queen wanted to
persuade him not to do it, but he stood out against them,
and went forth with a larger following. When he had
got into the forest, it fared with him as with his
brother ; he saw a white hart and said to his people, " Stay
here, and wait until I return, I want to chase the lovely wild
beast," and then he rode into the forest and his animals ran
after him. But he could not overtake the hart, and got so
deep into the forest that he was forced to pass the night
there. And when he had lighted a fire, he heard some one
wailing above him, " Oh, oh, oh, how cold I am ! " Then
he looked up, and the self-same witch was sitting in the
tree. Said he, " If thou art cold, come down, little old
mother, and warm thyself." She answered, " No, thy
animals will bite me." But he said, " They will not hurt
thee." Then she cried, " I will throw down a wand to thee,
and if thou smitest them with it they will do me no harm.'*
When the huntsman heard that, he had no confidence in
the old woman, and said, " I will not strike my ani-
mals. Come down, or I will fetch thee." Then she cried,
" AVhat dost thou want ? Thou shalt not touch me." But
he replied, " If thou dost not come, I will shoot thee."

Tale 60.] THE TWO BROTHERS. 263

Said she, " Shoot away, I do not fear thy bullets !" Then
he aimed, and fired at her, but the witch was proof against
all leaden bullets, and laughed, and yelled and cried,
" Thou shalt not hit me." The huntsman knew what to
do, tore three silver buttons off his coat, and loaded his
gun with them, for against them her arts were useless,
and when he fired she fell down at once with a scream.
Then he set his foot on her and said, " Old witch, if thou
dost not instantly confess where my brother is, I will
seize thee with both my hands and throw thee into the
fire." She was in a great fright, begged for mercy, and
said, " He and his animals lie in a vault, turned to stone."
Then he compelled her to go thither with him, threatened
her, and said, " Old sea-cat, now shalt thou make my
brother and all the human beings lying here, alive again,
or thou shalt go into the fire ! " She took a wand and
touched the stones, and then his brother with his animals
came to life again, and many others, merchants, artizans,
and shepherds, arose, thanked him for their deliverance,
and went to their homes. But when the twin brothers
saw each other again, they kissed each other and rejoiced
with all their hearts. Then they seized the witch, bound
her and laid her on the fire, and when she was burnt the
forest opened of its own accord, and was light and clear,
and the King's palace could be seen at about the distance
of a three hours' walk.

Thereupon the two brothers went home together, and on
the way told each other their histories. And when the
youngest said that he was ruler of the whole country in the
King's stead, the other observed, " That I remarked very
well, for when I came to the town, and was taken for thee,
all royal honours were paid me ; the young Queen looked
on me as her husband, and I had to eat at her side, and sleep
in thy bed." When the other heard that, he became so
jealous and angry that he drew his sword, and struck off
his brother's head. But when he saw him lying there
dead, and saw his red blood flowing, he repented most
violently : " My brother delivered me," cried he, " and I
have killed him for it," and he bewailed him aloud.
Then his hare came and offered to go and bring some of
the root of life, and bounded away and brought it while

264 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 61.

yet there was time, and tlie dead man was brought to life
again, and knew nothing about the wound.

After this they journeyed onwards, and the youngest
said, " Thou lookest like me, hast royal apparel on as I
have, and the animals follow thee as they do me ; we will
go in by opposite gates, and arrive at the same time
from the two sides in the aged King's presence." So they
separated, and at the same time came the watchmen from
the one door and from the other, and announced that the
young King and the animals had returned from the chase.
The King said, " It is not possible, the gates lie quite a
mile apart." In the meantime, however, the two brothers
entered the courtyard of the palace from opposite sides,
and both mounted the steps. Then the King said to the
daughter, " Say which is thy husband. Each of them
looks exactly like the other, I cannot tell." Then she was
in great distress, and could not tell ; but at laSt she
remembered the necklace which she had given to the
animals, and she sought for and found her little golden
clasp on the lion, and she cried in her delight, " He who
is followed by this lion is my true husband." Then the
young King laughed and said, " Yes, he is the right one,"
and they sat down together to table, and ate and drank,
and were merry. At night when the young King went
to bed, his wife said, " Why hast thou for these last nights
always laid a two-edged sword in our bed ? I thought
thou hadst a wish to kill me." Then he knew how true
his brother had been.

61.— THE LITTLE PEASANT.

There was a certain village wherein no one lived but
really rich peasants, and just one poor one, whom they
called the little peasant. He had not even so much as a
cow, and still less money to buy one, and yet he and his
wife did so wish to have one. One day he said to her,
"Hark you, I have a good thought, there is our gossip
the carpenter, he shall make us a wooden calf, and paint

Tale 61.] THE LITTLE PEASANT. 265

it brown, so that it look like any other, and in time it will
certainly get big and be a cow." The woman also liked
the idea, and their gossip the carpenter cut and planed
the calf, and painted it as it ought to be, and made it
with its head hanging down as if it were eating.

Next morning when the cows were being driven out,
the little peasant called the cow-herd in and said, " Look,
I have a little calf there, but it is still small and has still
to be carried." The cow-herd said, " All right," and took
it in his arms and carried it to the pasture, and set it
among the grass. The little calf always remained
standing like one which was eating, and the cow-herd said,
" It will soon run alone, just look how it eats already ! "
At night when he was going to drive the herd home again,
he said to the calf, " If thou canst stand there and eat
thy fill, thou canst also go on thy four legs ; I don't care
to drag thee home again in my arms." But the little
peasant stood at his door, and waited for his little calf,
and when the cow-herd drove the cows through the village,
and the calf was missing, he inquired where it was. The
cow-herd answered, " It is still standing out there eating.
It would not stop and come with us." But the little peasant
said, " Oh, but I must have my beast back again." Then
they went back to the meadow together, but some one had
stolen the calf, and it was gone. The cow-herd said, " It
must have run away." The peasant, however, said, " Don't
tell me that," and led the cow-herd before the mayor,
who for his carelessness condemned him to give the peasant
a cow for the calf which had run away.

And now the little peasant and his wife had the cow
for which they had so long wished, and they were heartily
glad, but they had no food for it, and could give it nothing
to eat, so it soon had to be killed. They salted the flesh,
and the peasant went into the town and wanted to sell
the skin there, so that he might buy a new calf with the
proceeds. On the way he passed by a mill, and there sat
a raven with broken wings, and out of pity he took him
and wrapped him in the skin. As, however, the weather
grew so bad and there was a storm of rain and wind, he
could go no farther, and turned back to the mill and
begged for shelter. The miller's wife was alone in the

266 grimm's household tales. [tale 61.

house, and said to the peasant, " Lay thyself on the straw
there," and gave hhn a slice of bread with cheese on it.
The peasant ate it, and lay down with his skin beside
him, and the woman thought, " He is tired and has gone
to sleep." In the meantime came the parson ; the miller's
\vife received him well, and said, " My husband is out,
so we will have a feast." The peasant listened, and
when he heard about feasting he was vexed that he
had been forced to make shift with a slice of bread with
cheese on it. Then the woman served up four different
things, roast meat, salad, cakes, and wine.

Just as they were about to sit down and eat, there was

a knocking outside. The woman said, " Oh, heavens ! It

"is my husband ! " She quickly hid the roast meat mside

the tiled stove, the wine under the pillow, the salad on the

bed, the cakes under it, and the parson in the cupboard in

the 'entrance. Then she opened the door for her husband,

and said, " Thank heaven, thou art back again ! There is^

such a storm, it looks as if the world were coming to

an end." The miller saw the peasant lying on the straw,

and asked, " What is that fellow doing there ? " " Ah," said

the wife, " the poor knave came in the storm and rain, and

begged for shelter, so I gave him a bit of bread and cheese,

and showed him where the straw was." The man said,

" I have no objection, but be quick and get me something

to eat." The woman said, " But I have nothing but bread

and cheese." " I am contented with anything," replied the

husband, " so far as I am concerned, bread and cheese will

do," and looked at the peasant and said, " Come and eat

some more with me." The peasant did not require to be

invited twice, but got up and ate. After this the miller

saw the skin in which the raven was, lying on the ground,

and asked, "What hast thou there?" The peasant

answered, "I have a soothsayer inside it." "Can he

foretell anything to me ? " said the miller. " W^hy not ? "

answered the peasant, " but he only says four things, and

the fifth he keeps to himself." The miller was curious,

and said, " Let him foretell something for once." Then

the peasant pinched the raven's head, so that he croaked

and made a noise like krr, krr. The mHler said,

" What did he say ? " The peasant answered, " In the

Tale 61.] THE LITTLE PEASANT. 267

first place, lie says that there is some wine hidden under
the pillow." " Bless me ! " cried the miller, and went
there and found the wine. " Now go on," said he. The
peasant made the raven croak again, and said, "In the
second place, he says that there is some roast meat in the
tiled stove." " Upon my word ! " cried the miller, and
went thither, and found the roast meat. The peasant
made the raven prophesy still more, and said, " Thirdly,
he says that there is some salad on the bed." "That
would be a fine thing ! " cried the miller, and went there
and found the salad. At last the peasant pinched the
raven once more till he croaked, and said, " Fourthly, he
says that there are some cakes under the bed." " That
would be a fine thing ! " cried the miller, and looked there,
and found the cakes.

And now the two sat down to the table together, but
the miller's wife was frightened to death, and went to bed
and took all the keys with her. The miller would have
liked much to know the fifth, but the little peasant said,
" First, we will quickly eat the four things, for the fifth
is something bad." So they ate, and after that they
bargained how much the miller was to give for the fifth
prophesy, until they agreed on three hundred thalers.
Then the peasant once more pinched the raven's head till
he croaked loudly. The miller asked, "What did he
say ? " The peasant replied, " He says that the Devil is
hiding outside there in the cupboard in the entrance."
The miller said, "The Devil must go out," and opened
the house-door ; then the woman was forced to give up the
keys, and the peasant unlocked the cupboard. The
parson ran out as fast as he could, and the miller said, " It
was true ; I saw the black rascal with my own eyes."
The peasant, however, made offnext morning by daybreak
with the three hundred thalers.

At home the small peasant gradually launched out ; he
built a beautiful house, and the peasants said, " The small
peasant has certainly been to the place where golden snow
falls, and people carry the gold home in shovels." Then
the small peasant was brought before the Mayor, and
bidden to say from whence his wealth came. Ho an-
swered, "I sold my cow's skin in the town, for three

268 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 61.

hundred tlialers." When the peasants heard that, they
too wished to enjoy this great profit, and ran home,
killed all their cows, and stripped off their skins in order
to sell them in the town to the greatest advantage. The
Mayor, however, said, " But my servant must go first."
When she came to the merchant in the town, he did not
give her more than two thalers for a skin, and when the
others came, he did not give them so much, and said,
" What can I do with all these skins ? "

Then the peasants were vexed that the small peasant
should have thus overreached them, wanted to take ven-
geance on him, and accused him of this treachery before
the Mayor. The innocent little peasant was unanimously
sentenced to death, and was to be rolled into the water,
in a barrel pierced full of holes. He was led forth,
and a priest was brought who was to say a mass for
his soul. The others were all obliged to retire to a
distance, and when the peasant looked at the priest, he
recognized the man who had been with the miller's wife.
He said to him, " I set you free from the cupboard, set me
free from the barrel." At this same moment up came,
with a flock of sheep, the very shepherd who as the peasant
knew had long been wishing to be Mayor, so he cried
with all his might, " No, I will not do it ; if the whole
world insists on it, I will not do it ! " The shepherd
hearing that, came uj) to him, and asked, " What art
thou about ? What is it that thou wilt not do ? " The
peasant said, " They want to make me Mayor, if I will
but put myself in the barrel, but I will not do it."
The shepherd said, " If nothing more than that is needful
in order to be Mayor, I would get into the barrel at once."
The peasant said, " If thou wilt get in, thou wilt be
Mayor." The shepherd was willing, and got in, and
the peasant shut the top down on him ; then he took the
shepherd's flock for himself, and drove it away. The parson
went to the crowd, and declared that the mass had been
said. Then they came and rolled the barrel towards the
water. When the barrel began to roll, the shepherd cried,
"I am quite willing to be Mayor." They believed no
otherwise than that it was the peasant who was saying
this, and answered, " That is what we intend, but first

Tale 62.] THE QUEEN BEE. 269

thou slialt look about thee a little down below there,"
and they rolled the barrel down into the water.

After that the peasants went home, and as they were en-
tering the village, the small peasant also came quietly in,
driving a flock of sheep and looking quite contented. Then
the peasants were astonished, and said, " Peasant, from
whence comes t thou ? Hast thou come out of the water ? "
" Yes, truly," replied the peasant, " I sank deep, deep down,
until at last I got to the bottom ; I pushed the bottom
out of the barrel, and crept out, and there were pretty
meadows on which a number of lambs were feeding, and
from thence I brought this flock away with me." Said
the peasants, " Are there any more there ? " " Oh, yes,"
said he, " more than I could do anything with." Then
the peasants made up their minds that they too would
fetch some sheep for themselves, a flock apiece, but the
Mayor said, " I come first." So they went to the water
together, and just then there were some of the small
fleecy clouds in the blue sky, which are called little
lambs, and they were reflected in the water, whereupon
the peasants cried, "We already see the sheep down
below ! " The Mayor pressed forward and said, " I will
go down first, and look about me, and if things promise well
I'll call you." So he jumped in ; splash ! went the water ;
he made a sound as if he were calling them, and the whole
crowd plunged in after him as one man. Then the entire
village was dead, and the small peasant, as sole heir,
became a rich man.

62.— THE QUEEN BEE.

Two kings' sons once went out in search of adventures,
and fell into a wild, disorderly way of living, so that they
never came home again. The youngest, who was called
Simpleton, set out to seek his brothers, but when at
length he found them they mocked him for thinking that
he with his simj^licity could get through the world, when
they two could not make their way, and yet were so much
cleverer. They all three travelled away together, and

270 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 62.

came to an ant-hill. The two elder wanted to destroy it,
to see the little ants creeping about in their terror, and
carrying their eggs away, but Simpleton said, " Leave the
creatures in peace ; I will not allow you to disturb them."
Then they went onwards and came to a lake, on which
a great number of ducks were swimming. The two
brothers wanted to catch a couple and roast them, but
Simpleton would not permit it, and said, " Leave the
creatures in peace, I will not suffer you to kill them."
At length they came to a bee's nest, in which there was so
much honey that it ran out of the trunk of the tree where it
was. The two wanted to make a fire beneath the tree,
and suffocate the bees in order to take away the honey,
but Simpleton again stopped them and said, " Leave
the creatures in peace, I will not allow you to burn them."
At length the two brothers arrived at a castle where
stone horses were standing in the stables, and no human
being was to be seen, and they went through all the
halls until, quite at the end, they came to a door in
which were three locks. In the middle of the door,
however, there was a little pane, through which they
could see into the room. There they saw a little grey
man, who was sitting at a table. They called him,
once, twice, but he did not hear ; at last they called him
for the third time, Avhen he got up, opened the locks,
and came out. He said nothing, however, but conducted
them to a handsomely-spread table, and when they had
eaten and drunk, he took each of them to a bedroom.
Next morning the little grey man came to the eldest,
beckoned to him, and conducted him to a stone table, on
which were inscribed three tasks, by the performance
of which the castle could be delivered. The first was that
in the forest, beneath the moss, lay the princess's pearls, a
thousand in number, which must be picked up, and if by
sunset one single pearl was wanting, he who had looked
for them would be turned to stone. The eldest went
thither, and sought the whole day, but when it came
to an end, he had only found one hundred, and what
was written on the table came to pass, and he was
changed into stone. Next day, the second brother
undertook the adventure ; it did not, however, fare much

Tale 63.] THE THREE FEATHERS. 271

"better with him than with the eldest; he did not find
more than two hundred pearls, and was changed to stone.
At last the turn came to Simpleton also, who sought in
the moss. It was, however, so hard to find the pearls, and
he got on so slowly, that he seated himself on a stone, and
wept. And while he was thus sitting, the King of the
ants whose life he had once saved, came with five thousand
ants, and before long the little creatures had got all the
pearls together, and laid them in a heap. The second
task, however, was to fetch out of the lake the key of the
King's daughter's bed-chamber. When Simpleton came
to the lake, the ducks which he had saved, swam up to
him, dived down, and brought the key out of the water.
But the third task was the most difficult ; from amongst the
three sleeping daughters of the King was the youngest and
dearest to be sought out. They, however, resembled each
other exactly, and were only to be distinguished by their
having eaten different sweetmeats before they fell asleep :
the eldest a bit of sugar ; the second a little syrup ; and
the youngest a spoonful of honey. Then the Queen of
the bees, which Simpleton had protected from the fire,
came and tasted the lips of all three, and at last she re-
mained sitting on the mouth which had eaten honey, and
thus the King's son recognized the right princess. Then
the enchantment was at an end ; everything was released
from sleep, and those who had been turned to stone re-
ceived once more their natural forms. Simpleton married
the youngest and sweetest princess, and after her father's
death became King, and his two brothers received the two
other sisters.

63.— THE THREE FEATHERS.

There was once on a time a King who had three sons, of
whom two were clever and wise, but the third did not
speak much, and was simple, and was called the Simpleton.
"When the King had become old and weak, and was thinking
of his end, he did not know which of his sons should inherit
the kingdom after him. Then he said to them, " Go forth,
and he who brings me the most beautiful carpet shall be

272 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 63.

King after my death." And that there should be no dispute
amongst them, he took them outside his castle, blew three
feathers in the air, and said, " You shall go as they fly." One
feather flew to the east, the other to the west, but the
third flew straight up and did not fly far, but soon fell to
the ground. And now one brother went to the right,
and the other to the left, and they mocked Simpleton,
who was forced to stay where the third feather had
fallen. He sat down and was sad, then all at once
he saw that there was a trap-door close by the feather.
He raised it up, found some steps, and went down them,
and then he came to another door, knocked at it, and
heard somebody inside calling,

"Little green maiden small,
Hopping hither and thither;
Hop to the door,
And quickly see who is there."

The door opened, and he saw a great, fat toad sitting,
and round about her a crowd of little toads. The fat toad
asked what he wanted ? He answered, " I should like
to have the prettiest and finest carpet in the world."
Then she called a young one and said,

"Little green maiden small,
Hopping hither and thither.
Hop quickly and bring me
The great box here."

The young toad brought the box, and the fat toad
opened it, and gave Simpleton a carpet out of it, so beau-
tiful and so fine, that on the earth above, none could have
been woven like it. Then he thanked her, and ascended
again. The two others had, however, looked on their
youngest brother as so stupid that they believed he would
find and bring nothing at all. " Why should we give our-
selves a great deal of trouble to search ? " said they, and got
some coarse handkerchiefs from the first shepherds' wives
whom they met, and carried them home to the King. At
the same time Simpleton also came back, and brought
his beautiful carpet, and when the King saw it he was
astonished, and said, " If justice be done, the kingdom
belongs to the youngest." But the two others let their

Tale 63.J THE THREE FEATHERS. 273

father have no peace, and said that it was impossible that
Simpleton, who in everything lacked understanding, should
be King, and entreated him to make a new agreement
with them. Then the father said, " He who brings me
the most beautiful ring shall inherit the kingdom," and led
the three brothers out, and blew into the air three feathers,
which they were to follow. Those of the two eldest again
went east and west, and Simpleton's feather flew straight
up, and fell down near the door into the earth. 'J'hen he
went down again to the fat toad, and told her that he
wanted the most beautiful ring. She at once ordered her
great box to be brought, and gave him a ring out of it,
which sparkled with jewels, and was so beautiful that no
goldsmith on earth would have been able to make it.
The two eldest laughed at Simpleton for going to seek a
golden ring. They gave themselves no trouble, but
knocked the nails out of an old carriage-ring, and took it
to the King; but when Simpleton produced his golden
ring, his father again said, "The kingdom belongs to
him." ^ The two eldest did not cease from tormenting
the King until he made a third condition, and declared
that the one who brought the most beautiful woman
home, should have the kingdom. He again blew the
three feathers into the air, and they flew as before.

Then Simpleton without more ado went down to the fat
toad, and said, "I am to take home the most beautiful
woman !" " Oh," answered the toad, " the most beautiful
woman ! She is not at hand at the moment, but still thou
shalt have her." She gave him a yellow turnip which had
been hollowed out, to which six mice were harnessed. Then
Simpleton said quite mournfully, " What am I to do with
that ? " The toad answered, " Just put one of my little
toads into it." Then he seized one at random out of the
circle, and put her into the yellow coach, but hardly was
she seated inside it than she turned into a wonderfully
beautiful maiden, and the turnip into a coach, and the
six mice into horses. So he kissed her, and drove
off quickly with the horses, and took her to the King.
His brothers came afterwards ; they had given themselves
no trouble at all to seek beautiful girls, but had brought
with them the first peasant women they chanced to meet.
VOL. I. T

274 GEIMM'S household tales [Tale 64.

When the King saw them he said, " After my death the
kingdom belongs to my youngest son." But the two eldest
deafened the King's ears afresh with their clamour, " We
cannot consent to Simpleton's being King," and demanded
that the one whose wife could leap through a ring which |
hung in the centre of the hall should have the preference.
They thought, " The peasant women can do that easily ;
they are strong enough, but the delicate maiden will |
jump herself to death." The aged King agreed likewise
to this. Then the two peasant women jumped, and
jumped through the ring, but were so stout that they
fell, and their coarse arms and legs broke in two. And
then the pretty maiden whom Simpleton had brought
with him, sprang, and sprang through as lightly as a
deer, and all opposition had to cease. So he received the
crown, and has ruled wisely for a length of time.

64.— THE GOLDEN GOOSE.

There was a man who had three sons, the youngest of
whom was called Dummling,* and was despised, mocked,
and put down on every occasion.

It happened that the eldest wanted to go into the forest
to hew wood, and before he went his mother gave him a
beautiful sweet cake and a bottle of wine in order that he
might not suffer from hunger or thirst.

When he entered the forest there met him a little grey-
haired old man who bade him good-day, and said, " Do
give me a piece of cake out of your pocket, and let me
have a draught of your wine ; I am so hungry and thirsty."
But the prudent youth answered, " If I give you my cake
and wine, I shall have none for myself ; be off with you,"
and he left the little man standing and went on.

But when he began to hew down a tree, it was not long
before he made a false stroke, and the axe cut him in the
arm, so that he had to go home and have it bound up.
And this was the little grey man's doing.

* Simpleton.

Tale 64.] THE GOLDEN GOOSE. 275

After this the second son went into the forest, and his
mother gave him, like the eldest, a cake and a bottle of
wine. The little old grey man met him likewise, and
asked him for a piece of cake and a drink of wine. But
the second son, too, said with much reason, " AVhat I give
yon will be taken away from myself ; be oif ! " and he left
the little man standing and went on. His punishment,
however, was not delayed ; when he had made a few strokes
at the tree he struck himself in the leg, so that he had to
be carried home.

Then Dummling said, " Father, do let me go and cut
wood." The father answered, " Your brothers have hurt
themselves with it, leave it alone, you do not understand
anything about it." But Dummling begged so long that
at last he said, " Just go then, you will get wiser by hurt-
ing yourself." His mother gave him a cake made with
water and baked in the cinders, and with it a bottle of
sour beer.

When he came to the forest the little old grey man
met him likewise, and greeting him, said, " Give me a
piece of your cake and a drink out of your bottle ; I am so
hungry and thirsty." Dummling answered, " I have only
cinder-cake and sour beer; if that pleases you, we will
sit down and eat." So they sat down, and when Dumm-
ling pulled out his cinder-cake, it was a fine sweet cake,
and the sour beer had become good wine. So they ate
and drank, and after that the little man said, " Since you
have a good heart, and are willing to divide what you have,
I will give you good luck. There stands an old tree, cut
it down, and you will find something at the roots." Then
the old man took leave of him.

Dummling went and cut down the tree, and when it
fell there was a goose sitting in the roots with feathers of
pure gold. He lifted her up, and taking her with him,
went to an inn where he thought he would stay the night.
Now the host had three daughters, who saw the goose
and were curious to know what such a wonderful bird
might be, and would have liked to have one of its golden
feathers.

The eldest thought, " I shall soon find an opportunity
of pulling out a feather," and as soon as Dummling had

T 2

276 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 64.

gone out she seized tlie goose by the wing, but her finger
and hand remained sticking fast to it.

The second came soon afterwards, thinking only of how
she might get a feather for herself, but she had scarcely
touched her sister than she was held fast.

At last the third also came with the like intent, and the
others screamed out, " Keep away ; for goodness' sake keep
away ! " But she did not understand why she was to keep
away. " The others are there," she thought, " I may as
well be there too," and ran to them ; but as soon as she
had touched her sister, she remained sticking fast to her.
So they had to spend the night with the goose.

The next morning Dummling took the goose under his
arm and set out, without troubling himself about the three
girls who were hanging on to it. They were obliged to
run after him continually, now left, now right, just as he
was inclined to go.

In the middle of the fields the parson met them, and
when he saw the procession he said, " For shame, you
good-for-nothing girls, why are you running across the
fields after this young man ? is that seemly ? " At the same
time he seized the youngest by the hand in order to pull
her away, but as soon as he touched her he likewise stuck
fast, and was himself obliged to run behind.

Before long the sexton came by and saw his master, the
parson, running on foot behind three girls. He was as-
tonished at this and called out, " Hi ! your reverence,
whither away so quickly ? do not forget that we have a
christening to-day ! " and running after him he took him
by the sleeve, but was also held fast to it.

Whilst the five were trotting thus one behind the other,
two labourers came with their hoes from the fields ; the
parson called out to them and begged that they would set
him and the sexton free. But they had scarcely touched
the sexton when they were held fast, and now there were
seven of them running behind Dummling and the goose.

Soon afterwards he came to a city, where a king ruled
who had a daughter who was so serious that no one could
make her laugh. So he had put forth a decree that who-
soever should be able to make her laugh should marry
her. When Dummling heard this, he went with his goose

Tale G5.] ALLERLEIRAUH. 277

and all her train before the King's daughter, and as soon
as she saw the seven people running on and on, one behind
the other, she began to laugh quite loudly, and as if she
would never leave off". Thereupon Dummling asked to
have her for his wife, and the wedding was celebrated.
After the King's death Dummling inherited the kingdom,
and lived a long time contentedly with his wife.

65.— ALLERLEIRAUH.

There was once on a time a King who had a wife with
golden hair, and she was so beautiful that her equal was
not to be found on earth. It came to pass that she lay ill,
and as she felt that she must soon die, she called the King
and said, " If thou wishest to marry again after my death,
take no one who is not quite as beautiful as I am, and
who has not just such golden hair as I have : this thou
must promise me." And after the King had promised her
this she closed her eyes and died.

For a long time the King could not be comforted, and
had no thought of taking another wife. At length his
councillors said, " There is no help for it, the King must
marry again, that we may have a Queen." And now
messengers were sent about far and wide, to seek a bride
who equalled the late Queen in beauty. In the whole
world, however, none was to be found, and even if one had
been found, still there would have been no one who had such
golden hair. So the messengers came home as they went.

Now the King had a daughter, who was just as beau-
tiful as her dead mother, and had the same golden hair.
When she was grown up the King looked at her one day,
and saw that in every respect she was like his late wife,
and suddenly felt a violent love for her. Then he spake to
his councillors, " I will marry my daughter, for she is
the counterpart of my late wife, otherwise I can find no
bride who resembles her." When the councillors heard
that, they were shocked, and said, " God has forbidden a
father to marry his daughter, no good can come from such
a crime, and the kingdom will be involved in the ruin."

278 GEIMM'S household tales. [Tale 65.

The daugliter was still more shocked when she be-
came aware of her father's resolution, but hoped to turn
him from his design. Then she said to him, " Before
I fulfil your wish, I must have three dresses, one as
golden as the sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one as
bright as the stars ; besides this, I wish for a mantle of a
thousand different kinds of fur and hair joined together,
and one of every kind of animal in your kingdom must
give a bit of his skin for it." But she thought, " To get
that will be quite impossible, and thus I shall divert my
father from his wicked intentions." The King, however,
did not give it up, and the cleverest maidens in his
kingdom had to weave the three dresses, one as golden as
ijie sun, one as silvery as the moon, and one as bright as
the stars, and his huntsmen had to catch one of every
kind of animal in the whole of his kingdom, and take from
it a piece of its skin, and out of these was made a mantle
of a thousand diiferent kinds of fur. At length, when all
was ready, the King caused the mantle to be brought,
spread it out before her, and said, " The wedding shall be
to-morrow."

When, therefore, the King's daughter saw that there
was no longer any hope of turning her father's heart, she
resolved to run away from him. In the night whilst
every one was asleep, she got up, and took three different
things from her treasures, a golden ring, a golden
spinning-wheel, and a golden reel. The three dresses of the
sun, moon, and stars she put into a nutshell, put on her
mantle of all kinds of fur, and blackened her face and
hands with soot. Then she commended herself to God,
and went away, and walked the whole night until she
reached a great forest. And as she was tired, she got
into a hollow tree, and fell asleep.

The sun rose, and she slept on, and she was still sleep-
ing when it was full day. Then it so happened that the
King to whom this forest belonged, was hunting in it.
When his dogs came to the tree, they snuffed, and ran
barking round about it. The King said to the huntsmen,
" Just see what kind of wild beast has hidden itself in
there." The huntsmen obeyed his order, and when they
came back they said, " A wondrous beast is lying in the

Tale 65.] ALLERLEIRAUH. 279

hollow tree ; we have never before seen one like it. Its
skin is fur of a thousand different kinds, but it is lying
asleep." Said the King, " See if you can catch it alive, and
then fasten it on the can-iage, and we will take it with us."
AVhcn the huntsmen laid hold of the maiden, she awoke
full of terror, and cried to them, "I am a poor child,
deserted by father and mother; have pity on me, and
take me with you." Then said they, " Allerleirauh, thou
wilt be useful in the kitchen, come with us, and thou
canst sweep up the ashes." So they put her in the
carriage, and took her home to the royal palace. There
they pointed out to her a closet under the stairs, where no
daylight entered, and said, "Hairy animal, there canst
thou Kve and sleep." Then she was sent into the kitchen,
and there she carried wood and water, swept the hearth,
plucked the fowls, picked the vegetables, raked the ashes,
and did all the dirty work.

Allerleirauh lived there for a long time in great
wretchedness. Alas, fair princess, what is to become of thee
now ! It happened, however, that one day a feast was
held in the palace, and she said to the cook, " May I go
up-stairs for a while, and look on ? I will place myself
outside the door." The cook answered, " Yes, go, but
you must be back here in half-an-hour to sweep the
hearth." Then she took her oil-lamp, went into her
den, put off her fur-dress, and washed the soot off her
face and hands, so that her full beauty once more came to
light. And she opened the nut, and took out her dress
which shone like the sun, and when she had done that she
went up to the festival, and every one made way for her,
for no one knew her, and thought no otherwise than that
she was a king's daughter. The King came to meet her,
gave his hand to her, and danced with her, and thought
in his heart, " My eyes have never yet seen any one so
beautiful !" When the dance was over she curtsied, and
when the King looked round again she had vanished, and
none knew whither. The guards who stood outside the
palace were called and questioned, but no one had seen
her.

She had, how^ever, run into her little den, had quickly
taken off her dress, made her face and hands black again,

280 geimm's household tales. [tale 65.

put on tlie fur-mantle, and again was Allerleirauh. And
now when she went into the kitchen, and was about to get
to her work and sweep up the ashes, the cook said, " Leave
that alone till morning, and make me the soup for the
King ; I, too, will go upstairs awhile, and take a look ; but
let no hairs fall in, or in future thou shalt have nothing
to eat." So the cook went away, and Allerleirauh made
the soup for the King, and made bread soup and the best
she could, and when it was ready she fetched her golden
ring from her little den, and put it in the bowl in which
the soup was served. When the dancing was over, the
King had his soup brought and ate it, and he liked it so
much that it seemed to him he had never tasted better.
But when he came to the bottom of the bowl, he saw a
golden ring lying, and could not conceive how it could
have got there. Then he ordered the cook to appear before
him. The cook was terrified when he heard the order,
and said to Allerleirauh, " Thou hast certainly let a hair
fall into the soup, and if thou hast, thou shalt be beaten
for it." When he came before the King the latter asked
who had made the soup ? The cook replied, " I made it.'*
But the King said, " That is not true, for it was much
better than usual, and cooked differently." He answered,
*' I must acknowledge that I did not make it, it was made
by the rough animal." The King said, " Go and bid it
come up here."

When Allerleirauh came, the King said, " Who art
thou ? " "I am a poor girl who no longer has any father or
mother." He asked further, " Of what use art thou in my
palace ? " She answered, " I am good for nothing but to
have boots thrown at my head." He continued, " AVhere
didst thou get the ring which was in the soup ? " She
answered, " I know nothing about the ring." So the King
could learn nothing, and had to send her away again.

After a while, there was another festival, and then, as
before, Allerleirauh begged the cook for leave to go and
look on. He answered, " Yes, but come back again in
half-an-hour, and make the King the bread soup which ho
so much likes." Then she ran into her den, washed her-
self quickly, and took out of the nut the dress which was
as silvery as the moon, and put it on. Then she went up

Tale 65.] ALLERLEIRAUH. 281

and was like a princess, and the King stepped forward to
meet her, and rejoiced to see her once more, and as the
dance was just beginning they danced it together. But
when it was at end, she again disappeared so quickly that
the King could not observe where she went. She, however,
sprang into her den, and once more made herself a hairy
animal, and went into the kitchen to prepare the bread
soup. When the cook had gone up-stairs, she fetched the
little golden spinning-wheel, and put it in the bowl so that
the soup covered it. Then it was taken to the King, who
ate it, and liked it as much as before, and had the cook
brought, who this time likewise was forced to confess
that Allerleirauh had prepared the soup. Allerleirauh
again came before the King, but she answered that she was
good for nothing else but to have boots thrown at her head,
and that she knew nothing at all about the little golden
spinning-wheel.

When, for the third time, the King held a festival,
all happened just as it had done before. The cook said,'
"Faith, rough-skin, thou art a witch, and always
puttest something in the soup which makes it so good
that the King likes it better than that which I cook,"
but as she begged so hard, he let her go up at the
appointed time. And now she put on the dress which
shone like the stars, and thus entered the hall. Again the
King danced with the beautiful maiden, and thought that
she never yet had been so beautiful. And whilst she was
dancing, he contrived, without her noticing it, to slip a
golden ring on her finger, and he had given orders that
the dance should last a very long time. When it was
ended, he wanted to hold her fast by her hands, but she
tore herself loose, and sprang away so quickly through the
crowd that she vanished from his sight. She ran as fast
as she could into her den beneath the stairs, but as she
had been too long, and had stayed more than half an-hour
she could not take off her pretty dress, bat only threw
over It her fur-mantle, and in her haste she did not make
herself quite black, but one finger remained white. Then
Allerleirauh ran into the kitchen, and cooked the bread
soup for the King, and as the cook was away, put her golden
reel into it. When the King found the reel at the bottom

282 gkimm's household tales. [tale 66.

of it, he caused Allerleirauh to be summoned, and then he
espied the white finger, and saw the ring which he had
put on it during the dance. Then he grasped her by the
hand, and held her fast, and when she wanted to release
herself and run away, her fur-mantle opened a little, and
the star-dress shone forth. The King clutched the mantle
and tore it otf. Then her golden hair shone forth, and she
stood there in full splendour, and could no longer hide her-
self. And when she had washed the soot and ashes from
her face, ehe was more beautiful than any one who had
ever been seen on earth. But the King said, " Thou art
my dear bride, and we will never more part from each
other." Thereupon the marriage was solemnized, and
they lived happily until their death.

66.— THE HARE'S BRIDE.

There was once a woman and her daughter who lived in
a pretty garden with cabbages; and a little hare came
into it, and during the winter time ate all the cabbages.
Then says the mother to the daughter, " Go into the gar-
den, and chase the hare away." The girl says to the little
hare, " Sh-sh, hare, you are still eating up all our cab-
bages." Says the hare, " Come, maiden, and seat your-
self on my little hare's tail, and come with me into my
little hare's hut." The girl will not do it. Next day the
hare again comes and eats the cabbages, then says the
mother to the daughter, " Go into the garden, and drive
the hare away." The girl says to the hare, "Sh-sh,
little hare, you are still eating all the cabbages." The
little hare says, " Maiden, seat thyself on my little hare's
tail, and come with me into my little hare's hut." The
maiden refuses. The third day the hare comes again,
and eats the cabbages. On this the mother says to the
dauo-hter, " Go into the garden, and hunt the hare away."
Says the maiden, " Sh-sh, little hare, you are still eating
all our cabbages." Says the little hare, " Come, maiden,
seat thyself on my little hare's tail, and come with me

Tale 67.] THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN. 283

into my little hare's hut." The girl seats herself on the
little hare's tail, and then the hare takes her far away to
his little hut, and says, "Now cook green cabbage and
millet-seed, and I will invite the wedding-guests." Then
all the wedding-guests assembled. ( W ho were the wedding-
guests?) That I can tell you as another told it to me.
They were all hares, and the crow was there as parson to
marry the bride and bridegroom, and the fox as clerk, and
the altar was under the rainbow.

The girl, however, was sad, for she was all alone. The
little hare comes and says, " Oj)en the doors, open the
doors, the wedding-guests are merry." The bride says
nothing, but weeps. The little hare goes away. The
little hare comes back and says, " Take off the lid, take off
the lid, the wedding-guests are hungry." The bride again
says nothing, and weeps. The little hare goes away.
The little hare comes back and says, " Take off the lid,
take off the lid, the wedding-guests are waiting." Then
the bride says nothing, and the hare goes away, but she
dresses a straw-doll in her clothes, and gives her a spoon to
stir \Adth, and sets her by the pan with the millet-seed, and
goes biick to her mother. The little hare comes once more
and says, " Take off the lid, take off the lid," and gets up,
and strikes the doll on the head so that her cap falls off.

Then the little hare sees that it is not his bride, and
goes away and is sorrowful.

67.— THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN.

There was once a King's son who was betrothed to a
maiden whom he loved very much. And when he was
sitting beside her and very happy, news came that his
father lay sick unto death, and desired to see him once
again before his end. Then he said to his beloved, "I
must now go and leave thee, I give thee a ring as a re-
membrance of me. When I am King, I will return and
fetch thee." So he rode away, and when he r3achcd his
father, the latter was dangerously ill, and near his death.

284 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 67.

He said to liim, " Dear son, I wished to see thee once again
before my end, promise me to marry as I wish," and he
named a certain King's daughter who was to be his wife.
The son was in siich trouble that he did not think what
he was doing, and said, " Yes, dear father, your will shall
be done," and thereupon the King shut his eyes, and died.

When therefore the son had been proclaimed King, and
the time of mourning was over, he was forced to keep the
promise which he had given his father, and caused the
King's daughter to be asked in marriage, and she was
promised to him. His first betrothed heard of this, and
fretted so much about his faithlessness that she nearly
died. Then her father said to her, " Dearest child, why
art thou so sad ? Thou shalt have whatsoever thou wilt."
She thought for a moment and said, " Dear father, I wish
for eleven girls exactly like mj^self in face, figure, and
size." The father said, " If it be possible, thy desire shall
be fulfilled," and he caused a search to be made in his
whole kingdom, until eleven young maidens were found
who exactl}^ resembled his daughter in face, figure, and
size.

When they came to the King's daughter, she had
twelve suits of huntsmen's clothes made, all alike, and
the eleven maidens had to put on the huntsmen's clothes,
and she herself put on the twelfth suit. Thereupon
she took leave of her father, and rode away with them,
and rode to the court of her former betrothed, whom
she loved so dearly. Then she inquired if he required
any huntsmen, and if he would take the whole of them
into his service. The King looked at her and did not
know her, but as they were such handsome fellows, he
said " Yes," and that he would willingly take them, and
now they were the King's twelve huntsmen.

The King, however, had a lion which was a wondrous
animal, for he knew all concealed and secret things. It
came to pass that one evening he said to the King, "Thou
thinkest thou hast twelve huntsmen ? " " Yes," said the
King, " they are twelve huntsmen." The lion continued,
" Thou art mistaken, they are twelve girls." The King
said, " That cannot be true ! How wilt thou prove that
to me? " " Oh, just let some peas be strewn in thy ante-

i

Tale 67.] THE TWELVE HUNTSMEN. 285

cliamher," answered the lion, " and then thou wilt soon see
it. Men have a firm step, and when they walk over peas
none of them stir, but girls trip and skip, and drag their
feet, and the peas roll about." The King was well pleased
with the counsel, and caused the peas to be strewn.

There was, however, a servant of the King's who
favoured the huntsmen, and when he heard that they
were going to be put to this test he went to them and re-
peated everything, and said, " The lion wants to make
the King believe that you are girls." Then the King's
daughter thanked him, and said to her maidens, " Put on
some strength, and step firmly on the peas." So next
morning when the King had the twelve huntsmen called
before him, and they came into the ante-chamber where
the peas were lying, they stepped so firmly on them, and
had such a strong, sure walk, that not one of the peas
either rolled or stirred. Then they went away again, and
the King said to the lion, " Thou hast lied to me, they
walk just like men." The lion said, " They have got to
know that they were going to be put to the test, and have
assumed some strength. Just let twelve spinning-wheels
be brought into the ante-chamber some day, and they
will go to them and be pleased with them, and that is
what no man would do." The King liked the advice, and
had the spinning-wheels placed in the ante-chamber.

But the servant, who was well disposed to the huntsmen,
went to them, and disclosed the project. Then when they
were alone the King's daughter said to her eleven girls,
"Put some constraint on yourselves, and do not look
round at the spinning-wheels." And next morning when
the King had his twelve huntsmen summoned, they went
through the ante-chamber, and never once looked at the
spinning-wheels. Then the King again said to the lion,
" Thou hast deceived me, they are men, for they have not
looked at the spinning-wheels." The lion replied, " They
have learnt that they were going to be put to the test,
and have restrained themselves." The King, however,
would no longer believe the lion.

The twelve huntsmen always followed the King to the
chase, and his liking for them continually increased.
Now it came to pass that once when they were out

286 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 68.

hunting, news came that the King's betrothed was ap-
proaching. When the true bride heard that, it hurt her
so much that her heart was almost broken, and she fell
fainting to the ground. The King thought something
had happened to his dear huntsman, ran up to him,
wanted to help him, and drew his glove off. Then he saw
the ring which he had given to his first bride, and when
he looked in her face he recognized her. Then his heart
was so touched that he kissed her, and when she opened
her eyes he said, " Thou art mine, and I am thine, and no
one in the world can alter that." He sent a messenger to
the other bride, and entreated her to return to her own
kingdom, for he had a wife already, and a man who had
just found an old dish did not require a new one. There-
upon the wedding was celebrated, and the lion was again
taken into favour, because, after all, he had told the truth.

68.— THE THIEF AND HIS MASTER.

Hans wished to put his son to learn a trade, so he went
into the church and prayed to our Lord God to know
which would be most advantageous for him. Then the
clerk got behind the altar, and said, " Thieving, thieving."
On this Hans goes back to his son, and tells him he is to
learn thieving, and that the Lord God had said so. So he
goes with his son to seek a man who is acquainted with
thieving. They walk a long time and come into a
great forest, where stands a little house with an old
woman in it. Hans says, " Do you know of a man who is
acquainted with thieving ? " " You can learn that here
quite well," says the woman, " my son is a master of it."
So he speaks with the son, and asks if he knows thieving
really well ? The master-thief says, " I will teach him
well. Come back when a year is over, and then if you
recognize your son, I will take no payment at all for teach-
ing him ; but if you don't know him, you must give me two
hundred thalers."

The father goes home again, and the son learns witch-

Tale 68.] THE THIEF AND HIS MASTER. 287

craft and thieving, thoroughly. When the year is out, the
father is full of anxiety to know how he is to contrive
to recognize his son. As he is thus going about in his
trouble, he meets a little dwarf, who says, " Man, what
ails you, that you are always in such trouble ? "

" Oh," says Hans, " a year ago I placed my son with
a master-thief who told me I was to come back when the
year was out, and that if I then did not know my son
when I saw him, I was to pay two hundred thalers ;
but if I did know him I was to pay nothing, and now I
am afraid of not knowing him and can't tell where I am
to get the money." Then the dwarf tells him to take a
small basket of bread with him, and to stand beneath the
chimney. " There on the cross-beam is a basket, out of
which a little bird is peeping, and that is your son."

Hans goes thither, and throws a little basket full of
black bread in front of the basket with the bird in it, and
the little bird comes out, and looks up. " Hollo, my son,
art thou here ? " says the father, and the son is de-
lighted to see his father, but the master-thief says, " The
devil must have prompted you, or how could you have
known your son ? " " Father, let us go," said the youth.

Then the father and son set out homeward. On the way
a carriage comes driving by. Hereupon the son says to
his father, " I will change myself into a large greyhound,
and then you can earn a great deal of money by me."
Then the gentleman calls from the carriage, " My man,
will you sell your dog ? " " Yes," says the father. " How
much do you want for it ? " " Thirty thalers." " Eh,
man, that is a great deal, but as it is such a very fine
dog I will have it." The gentleman takes it into his
carriage, but when they have driven a little farther the
dog springs out of the carriage through the window, and
goes back to his father, and is no longer a greyhound.

They go home together. Next day there is a fair in the
neighbouring town, so the youth says to his father, " I
will now change myself into a beautiful horse, and you
can sell me ; but when you have sold me, you must take
off my bridle, or I cannot become a man again." Then the
father goes with the horse to the fair, and the master- thief
comes and buys the horse for a hundred thalers, but the

288 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 69.

father forgets, and does not take off the bridle. So the
man goes home with the horse, and puts it in the stable.
When the maid crosses the threshold, the horse says,
" Take off my bridle, take off my bridle." Then the maid
stands still, and says, "What, canst thou speak?" So
she goes and takes the bridle off, and the horse becomes a
sparrow, and flies out at the door, and the wizard becomes
a sparrow also, and flies after him. Then they come
together and cast lots, but the master loses, and betakes
himself to the water and is a fish. Then the youth also
becomes a fish, and they cast lots again, and the master
loses. So the master changes himself into a cock, and the
youth becomes a fox, and bites the master's head off, and
he died and has remained dead to this day.

69.— JOEINDA AND JOEINGEL.*

There was once an old castle in the midst of a large and
thick forest, and in it an old woman who was a witch
dwelt all alone. In the day-time she changed herself
into a cat or a screech-owl, but in the evening she took
her proper shape again as a human being. She could
lure wild beasts and birds to her, and then she killed
and boiled and roasted them. If any one came within
one hundred paces of the castle he was obliged to
stand still, and could not stir from the place until she
bade him be free. But whenever an innocent maiden
came within this circle, she changed her into a bird, and
shut her up in a wicker-work cage, and carried the cage
into a room in the castle. She had about seven thousand
cages of rare birds in the castle.

Now, there was once a maiden who was called Jorinda,
who was fairer than all other girls. She and a handsome
youth named Joringel had promised to marry each other.
They were still in the days of betrothal, and their greatest
happiness was being together. One day in order that

* Jorinker, a bird of the titmouse species, Gall. Enc. It is said to
be named from its cry. See Jamieson's Diet. — Tb.

Tale 69.] JORINDA AND JOEINGEL. 289

they might be able to talk together in quiet they went for
a walk in the forest. " Take care," said Joringel, " that
you do not go too near the castle."

It was a beautiful evening; the sun shone brightly
between the trunks of the trees into the dark green of the
forest, and the turtle-doves sang mournfully upon the
young boughs of the birch-trees.

Jorinda wept now and then : she sat down in the sun-
shine and was sorrowful. Joringel was sorrowful too ;
they were as sad as if they were about to die. Then
they looked around them, and were quite at a loss, for
they did not know by which way they should go home.
The sun was still half above the mountain and half
set.

Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old
walls of the castle close at hand. He was horror-stricken
and filled with deadly fear. Jorinda was singing —

" My little bird, with the necklace red,
Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,
He sings that the dove must soon be dead,
Sings sorrow, sor jug, jug, jug."

Joringel looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a
nightingale, and sang "jug, jug, jug." A screech-owl
with glowing eyes flew three times round about her, and
three times cried " to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo ! "

Joringel could not move : he stood there like a stone,
and could neither weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot.

The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket,
and directly afterwards there came out of it a crooked old
woman, yellow and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked
nose, the point of which reached to her chin. She mut-
tered to herself, caught the nightmgale, and took it away
in her hand.

Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot ;
the nightingale was gone. At last the woman came
back, and said in a hollow voice, " Greet thee, Zachiel.
If the moon shines on the cage, Zachiel, let him loose at
once." Then Joringel was freed. He fell on his knees
before the woman and begged that she would give him
back his Jorinda, but she said that he should never have

VOL I. U

290 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 69

her again, and went away. He called, he wept, he
lamented, but all in vain, "Ah, what is to become of
me ? "

Joringel went away, and at last came to a strange
village ; there he kept sheep for a long time. He often
walked round and round the castle, but not too near to it.
At last he dreamt one night that he found a blood-red
flower, in the middle of which was a beautiful large pearl ;
that he picked the flower and went with it to the castle,
and that everything he touched with the flower was freed
from enchantment ; he also dreamt that by means of it he
recovered his Jorinda.

In the morning, when he awoke, he began to seek over
hill and dale if he could find such a flower. He sought
until the ninth day, and then, early in the morning, he
found the blood-red flower. In the middle of it there was
a large dew-drop, as big as the finest pearl.

.Day and night he journeyed with this flower to the
castle. When he was within a hundred paces of it
he was not held fast, but walked on to the door. Joringel
was full of joy ; he touched the door with the flower,
and it sprang open. He walked in through the court-
yard, and listened for the sound of the birds. At last he
heard it. He went on and found the room from whence it
came, and there the witch was feeding the birds in the seven
thousand cages.

When she saw Joringel she was angry, very angry, and
scolded and spat poison and gall at him, but she could not
come within two paces of him. He did not take any
notice of her, but went and looked at the cages with the
Inrds ; but there were many hundred nightingales, how
was he to find his Jorinda again ?

Just then he saw the old woman quietly take awaj" a
cage with a bird in it, and go towards the door.

Swifty he sj)rang towards her, touched the cage with
the flower, and also the old woman. She could now no
longer bewitch any one ; and Jorinda was standing there,
clasping him round the neck, and she was as beautiful as
ever!

Tale 70.] THE THEEE SONS OF FORTUNE. 291

70.— THE THREE SOXS OF FOETUNE.

A FATHER once called his tliree sons before liim, and he
gave to the first a cock, to the second a scythe, and to
the third a cat. " I am already aged," said he, " my
death is nigh, and I have wished to take thought for you
before my end ; money I have not, and what I now give
you seems of little worth, but all depends on your making
a sensible use of it. Only seek out a country where such
things are still unknown, and your fortune is made."

After the father's death the eldest went away with his
cock, but wherever he came the cock was already known ;
in the to^vns he saw him from a long distance, sitting
uj)on the steeples and turning round with the wind, and
in the villages he heard more than one crowing ; no one
would show any wonder at the creature, so that it did not
look as if he would make his fortune by it.

At last, however, it happened that he came to an island
where the people knew nothing about cocks, and did not
even understand how to divide their time. They certainly
knew when it was morning or evening, but at night, if
they did not sleep through it, not one of them knew how
to find out the time.

" Look ! " said he, " what a proud creature ! it has a
ruby-red crown upon its head, and wears spurs like a
knight ; it calls you three times during the night, at fixed
hours, and when it calls for the last time, the sun soon
rises. But if it crows by broad daylight, then take
notice, for there will certainly be a change of weather."

The people were well pleased ; for a whole night they
did not sleep, and listened with great delight as the cock
at two, four, and six o'clock, loudly and clearly proclaimed
the time. They asked if the creature were for sale, and
how much he wanted for it? "About as much gold as
an ass can carry," answered he. " A ridiculously small
price for such a precious creature ! " they cried unani-
mously, and willingly gave him what he had asked.

When he came home with his wealth his brothers were
astonished, and the second said, " Well, I will go forth and

u 2

292 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 70.

see whether I cannot get rid of my scythe as profitably."
But it did not look as if he would, for labourers met him
everywhere, and they had scythes upon their shoulders as

well as he.

At last, however, he chanced upon an island where the
people knew nothing of scythes. When the com was
ripe there, they took cannon out to the fields and shot it
down. Now this was rather an uncertain affair; many
shot right over it, others hit the ears instead of the stems,
and shot them away, whereby much was lost, and besides
all this it made a terrible noise. So the man set to work
and mowed it down so quietly and quickly that the people
opened their mouths with astonishment. They agreed to
give him what he wanted for the scythe, and he received
a horse laden with as much gold as it could carry. _

And now the third brother wanted to take his cat to
the right man. He fared just like the others ; so long as
he stayed on the mainland there was nothing to be done.
Every place had cats, and there were so many of them
that new-born kittens were generally drowned in the

ponds. J • 1 1 -1

At last he sailed over to an island, and it luckily
happened that no cats had ever yet been seen there, and
that the mice had got the upper hand so much that they
danced upon the tables and benches whether the master
were at home or not. The people complained bitterly of the
plague ; the King himself in his palace did not know how
to s'ecure himself against them ; mice squeaked in every
corner, and gnawed whatever they could lay hold of with
their teeth. But now the cat began her chase, and soon
cleared a couple of rooms, and the people begged the King
to buy the wonderful beast for the country. The King
willingly gave what was asked, which was a mule laden
with gold, and the third brother came home with the
greatest treasure of all.

The cat made herself merry with the mice in the royal
palace, and killed so many that they could not be counted.
At last she grew warm with the work and thirsty, so she
stood still, lifted up her head and cried, " Mew ! mew ! "
When they heard this strange cry, the King and all his
people were frightened, and in their terror ran all at once

Tale 71.] HOW SIX MEN GOT ON IN THE WORLD. 293

out of the palace. Then the King took counsel what was
best to be don » ; at last it was determined to send a herald
to the cat, and demand that she should leave the palace,
or if not, she was to expect that force would be used against
her. The councillors said, " Eather will we let ourselves
be plagued with the mice, for to that misfortune we are
accustomed, than give up our lives to such a monster as
this." A noble youth, therefore, was sent to ask the cat
" whether she would peaceably quit the castle ? " But the
cat, whose thirst had become still greater, merely answered,
" Mew ! mew ! " The youth understood her to say,
" Most certainly not ! most certainly not ! " and took this
answer to the King. " Then," said the councillors, " she
shall yield to force." Cannon were brought out, and the
palace was soon in flames. When the fire reached the
room where the cat was sitting, she sprang safely out of
the window ; but the besiegers did not leave off until the
whole palace was shot down to the ground.

71.— HOW SIX MEN GOT ON IN THE WORLD.

There was once a man who understood all kinds of arts ;
he served in war, and behaved well and bravely, but
when the war was over he received his dismissal, and
three farthings for his expenses on the way. " Stop," said
he, " I shall not be content with this. If I can only meet
with the right people, the King will yet have to give me all
the treasure of tl*e country." Then full of anger he went
into the forest, and saw a man standing therein who had
plucked up six trees as if they were blades of corn. He
said to him, " Wilt thou be my servant and go with me ? "
" Yes," he answered, " but, first, I will take this little
bundle of sticks home to my mother," and he took one of
the trees, and wrapped it round the five others, lifted the
bundle on his back, and carried it away. Then he returned
and went with his master, who said, " We two ought
to be able to get through the world very well," and when
they had walked on for a short while they found a
huntsman who was kneeling, had shouldered his gun, and

294 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 71.

was about to fire. The master said to Mm, " Huntsman,
what art thou going to shoot ? " He answered, " Two
miles from here a fly is sitting on the branch of an oak-
tree, and I want to shoot its left eye out." " Oh, come
with me," said the man, " if we three are together, we
certainly ought to be able to get on in the world ! "
The huntsman was ready, and went with him, and they
came to seven windmills whose sails were turning round
with great speed, and yet no wind was blowing either on
the right or the left, and no leaf was stirring. Then said
the man, " I know not what is driving the windmills, not
a breath of air is stirring," and he went onwards with his
servants, and when they had walked two miles they saw
a man sitting on a tree who was shutting one nostril, and
blowing out of the other. " Good gracious ! what are you
doing up there ? " He answered, " Two miles from here
are seven windmills ; look, I am blowing them till they
turn round." " Oh, come with me," said the man. " If we four
are together, we shall carry the whole world before us ! "
Then the blower came down and went with him, and
after a while they saw a man who was standing on one leg
and had taken off the other, and laid it beside him. Then
the master said, " You have arranged things very comfort-
ably to have a rest." " I am a runner," he replied, " and
to stop myself running far too fast, I have taken off one of
my legs, for if I run with both, I go quicker than any
bird can fly." " Oh, go with me. If we five are together,
we shall carry the whole world before us." So he went
with them, and it was not long before they met a man who
wore a cap, but had jDut it quite on one ear. Then the
master said to him, " Gracefully, gracefiilly, don't stick
your cap on one ear, you look just like a tom-fool ! " " I must
not wear it otherwise," said he, " for if I set my hat straight,
a terrible frost comes on, and all the birds in the air are
frozen, and drop dead on the ground." " Oh, come with
me," said the master. " If we six are together, we can carry
the whole world before us."

Now the six came to a town where the King had pro-
claimed that whosoever ran a race with his daughter and
won the victory, should be her husband, but whosoever
lost it, must lose his head. Then the man presented

Tale 71.] HOW SIX MEN GOT ON IN THE WORLD. 295

himself and said, " I will, however, let my servant run for
me." The King replied, " Then his life also must he
staked, so that his head and thine are both set on the
victory." "VMien that Avas settled and made secure, tJie
man buckled the other leg on the runner, and said to him,
" Now be nimble, and help us to win." It was fixed
that the one who was the first to bring some water
from a far distant well, was to be the victor. The runner
received a pitcher, and the King's daughter one too, and
they began to run at the same time, but in an instant,
when the King's daughter had got a very little way, the
people who were looking on could see no more of the
runner, and it was just as if the wind had whistled by.
In a short time he reached the well, filled his pitcher with
water, and turned back. Half-way home, however, he was
overcome with fatigue, and set his pitcher down, lay down
himself, and fell asleep. He had, however, made a pillow
of a horse's skull which was lying on the ground, in order
that he might lie uncomfortably, and soon wake up again.
In the meantime the King's daughter, who could also run
very well — quite as well as any ordinary mortal can —
had reached the well, and was hurrying back with
her pitcher full of water, and when she saw the runner
lying there asleep, she was glad and said, " My enemy is
delivered over into my hands," emptied his pitcher, and
ran on. And now all would have been lost if by good
luck the huntsman had not been standing at the top of the
castle, and had not seen everything with his sharp eyes.
Then said he, " The King's daughter shall still not prevail
against us ; " and he loaded his gun, and shot so cleverly,
that he shot the horse's skull away from under the run-
ner's head without hurting him. Then the runner awoke,
leapt up, and saw that his pitcher was empty, and that
the King's daughter was already far in advance. He did not
lose heart, however, but ran back to the well with his
pitcher, again drew some water, and was still at home
again, ten minutes before the King's daughter. " Behold ! "
said he, " I have not bestirred myself till now, it did not
deserve to be called running before."

But it pained the King, and still more his daughter,
that she should be carried off by a common disbanded

296 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 71.

soldier like that ; so they took counsel with each other
how to get rid of him and his companions. Then said
the King to her, " I have thought of a way ; don't be
afraid, they shall not come back again." And he said to
them, " You shall now make merry together, and eat and
drink," and he conducted them to a room which had a
floor of iron, and the doors also were of iron, and the
windows were guarded with iron bars. There was a
table in the room covered with delicious food, and the
King said to them, " Go in, and enjoy yourselves." And
when they were inside, he ordered the doors to be shut
and bolted. Then he sent for the cook, and commanded
him to make a fire under the room until the iron became
red-hot. This the cook did, and the six who were sitting
at table began to feel quite warm, and they thought the
heat was caused by the food ; but as it became still greater,
and they wanted to get out, and found that the doors
and windows were bolted, they became aware that the King
must have an evil intention, and wanted to suffocate them.
" He shall not succeed, however," said the one with the cap.
" I will cause a frost to come, before which the fire shall be
ashamed, and creep away." Then he put his cap on
straight, and immediately there came such a frost that all
heat disappeared, and the food on the dishes began to freeze.
When an hour or two had passed by, and the King believed
that they had perished in the heat, he had the doors
opened to behold them himself. But when the doors were
opened, all six were standing there, alive and well, and
said that they should very much like to get out to warm
themselves, for the very food was fast frozen to the dishes
with the cold. Then, full of anger, the King went down
to the cook, scolded him, and asked why he had not done
what he had been ordered to do. But the cook replied,
" There is heat enough there, just look yourself." Then
the King saw that a fierce fire was burning under the iron
room, and perceived that there was no getting the better
of the six in this way.

Again the King considered how to get rid of his un-
pleasant guests, and caused their chief to be brought and
said, " If thou wilt take gold and renounce my daughter,
thou shalt have as much as thou wilt."

Tale 71.] HOW SIX MEN GOT ON IN THE WOELD. 297

" Oh, yes, Lord King," he answered, " give me as much
as my servant can carry, and I will not ask for your
daughter."

On this the King was satisfied, and the other continued,
" In fourteen days, I will come and fetch it." Thereupon
he summoned together all the tailors in the whole
kingdom, and they were to sit for fourteen days and sew
a sack. And when it was ready, the strong one wh(j
could tear up trees had to take it on his back, and go with
it to the King. Then said the King, " Who can that
strong fellow be who is carrying a bundle of linen on his
back that is as big as a house ? " and he was alarmed and
said, " What a lot of gold he can carry away ! " Then he
commanded a ton of gold to be brought ; it took sixteen
of his strongest men to carry it, but the strong one
snatched it up in one hand, put it in his sack, and said,
" Why don't you bring more at the same time ? — that
hardly covers the bottom ! " Then, little by little, the
King caused all his treasure to be brought thither, and
the strong one pushed it into the sack, and still the sack
was not half full with it." " Bring more," cried he,
*' these few crumbs don't fill it." Then seven thousand
carts with gold had to be gathered together in the whole
kingdom, and the strong one thrust them and the oxen
harnessed to them into his sack. " I will examine it no
longer," said he, " but will just take what comes, so long
as the sack is but full." When all that was inside, there
was still room for a great deal more ; then he said, " I will
just make an end of the thing ; people do sometimes tie up
a sack even when it is not full." So he took it on his
back, and went away with his comrades. When the King
now saw how one single man was carrying away the
entire wealth of the country, he became enraged, and
bade his horsemen mount and pursue the six, and ordered
them to take the sack away from the strong one. Two
regiments speedily overtook the six, and called out, " You
are prisoners, put down the sack with the gold, or you will
all be cut to pieces ! " " What say you ? " cried the blower,
" that we are prisoners ! Eather than that should happen,
all of you shall dance about in the air." And he closed
one nostril, and with the other blew on the two regiments.

298 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 72.

Then they were driven away from each other, and carried
into the blue sk}^ over all the mountains — one here, the
other there. One sergeant cried for mercy ; he had nine
wounds, and was a brave fellow who did not deserve ill-
treatment. The blower stopped a little so that he came
down without injury, and then the blower said to him,
" Now go home to thy King, and tell him he had better
send some more horsemen, and I will blow them all into
the air." When the King was informed of this he said,
" Let the rascals go. They have the best of it." Then
the six conveyed the riches home, divided it amongst
them, and lived in content until their death.

72.— THE WOLF AND THE MAN.

Once on a time the fox was talking to the wolf of the
strength of man ; how no animal could withstand him,
and how all were obliged to employ cunning in order to
preserve themselves from him. Then the wolf answered,
" If I had but the chance of seeing a man for once, I would
set on him notwithstanding." " I can help thee to do
that," said the fox. " Come to me early to-morrow morn-
ing, and I will show thee one." The wolf presented himself
betimes, and the fox took him out on the road by which
the huntsmen went daily. First came an old discharged
soldier. " Is that a man ? " inquired the wolf. " No,"
answered the fox, " that was one." Afterwards came a
little boy who was going to school. " Is that a man ? " " No,
that is going to be one." At length came a hunter with his
double-barrelled gun at his back, and hanger by his side.
Said the fox to the wolf, " Look, there comes a man, thou
must attack him, but I will take myself off to my hole."
The wolf then rushed on the man. When the huntsman
saw him he said, "It is a pity that I have not loaded
with a bullet," aimed, and fired his -small shot in his face.
The wolf pulled a very wry face, but did not let him-
self be frightened, and attacked him again, on which
the huntsman gave him the second barrel. The wolf
swallowed his pain, and rushed on the huntsman, but he

Tale 73.] THE WOLF AND THE FOX. 299

drew out his brio-ht hanger, and gave hnn a few cuts with
it right and left, so that, bleeding everywhere, he ran
howling back to the fox. " Well, brother wolf," said the
fox, " how hast thou got on with man?" " Ah ! " replied
the wolf, " I never imagined the strength of man to be
what it is ! First, he took a stick from his shoulder, and
blew into it, and then something flew into my face which
tickled me terribly ; then he breathed once more into the
stick, and it flew into my nose like lightning and hail ;
when I was quite close, he drew a white rib out of his
side, and he beat me so with it that I was all but left
lying dead." " See what a braggart thou art ! " said the
fox. " Thou throwest thy hatchet so far that thou ca«ist
not fetch it back again ! "

73.— THE WOLF AND THE FOX.

The wolf had the fox with him, and whatsoever the wolf
wished, that the fox was compelled to do, for he was the
weaker, and he would gladly have been rid of his master.
It chanced that once as they were going through the
forest, the wolf said, " Eed-fox, get me something to eat,
or else I will eat thee thyself." Then the fox answered,
" I know a farm-yard where there are two young lambs ;
if thou art inclined, we will fetch one of them." That
suited the wolf, and they went thither, and the fox stole
the little lamb, took it to the wolf, and went away. The
wolf devoured it, but was not satisfied with one ; he
wanted the other as well, and went to get it. As, how-
ever, he did it so awkwardly, the mother of the little
lamb heard him, and began to cry out terribly, and to
bleat so that the farmer came running there. They found
the wolf, and beat him so mercilessly, that he went to the
fox limping and howling. " Thou hast misled me finely,"
said he; "I wanted to fetch the other lamb, and the
country folks surprised me, and have beaten me to a
jell}'." The fox replied, " Why art thou such a glutton ? "
Next day they again went into the country, and the
greedy wolf once more said, " lied-fox, get me something

300 GRTMM's household tales. [Tale 73.

to eat, or I will eat thee thyself." Then answered the
fox, " I know a farm-house where the wife is baking
pancakes to-night ; we will get some of them for our-
selves." They went there, and the fox slipped round the
house, and peeped and sniffed about until he discovered
where the dish was, and then drew down six jDancakes
and carried them to the wolf. " There is something for
thee to eat," said he to him, and then went his way.
The wolf swallowed down the pancakes in an instant, and
said, " They make one want more," and went thither and
tore the whole dish down so that it broke in pieces.
This made such a great noise that the woman came out,
and when she saw the wolf she called the people, who
hurried there, and beat him as long as their sticks would
hold together, till with two lame legs, and howling loudly,
he got back to the fox in the forest. " How abominably
thou hast misled me ! " cried he, " the peasants caught me,
and tanned my skin for me." But the fox replied, " Why
art thou such a glutton ? "

On the third day, when they were out together, and
the wolf could only limp along painfully, he again said,
*' Eed-fox, get me something to eat, or I will eat thee
thyself." The fox answered, " I know a man who has
been killing, and the salted meat is lying in a barrel in
the cellar ; we will get that." Said the wolf, " I will go
when thou dost, that thou mayest help me if I am
not able to get away." " I am willing," said the fox, and
showed him the by-paths and ways by which at length
they reached the cellar. There was meat in abundance,
and the wolf attacked it instantly and thought, " There is
plenty of time before I need leave off ! " The fox liked it
also, but looked about everywhere, and often ran to the
hole by which they had come in, and tried if his body was
still thin enough to slip through it. The wolf said,
" Dear fox, tell me why thou art running here and there
so much, and jumping in and out ? "

" I must see that no one is coming," replied the crafty
fellow. " Don't eat too much ! " Then said the wolf, " I
shall not leave until the barrel is empty." In the mean-
time the farmer, who had heard the noise of the fox's
jumping, came into the cellar. When the fox saw him he

Tale 74.] GOSSIP WOLF AND THE FOX. 301

was out of the hole at one bound. The wolf wanted to
follow him, but he had made himself so fat with eating
that he could no longer get through, but stuck fast.
Then came the farmer with a cudgel and struck him dead,
but the fox bounded into the forest, glad to be rid of the
old glutton.

74.— GOSSIP WOLF AND THE FOX.

The she-wolf brought forth a young one, and invited the
fox to be godfather. " After all, he is a near relative of
ours," said she, " he has a good understanding, and much
talent ; he can instruct my little son, and help him forward
in the world." The fox, too, appeared quite honest, and
said, " Worthy Mrs. Gossij), I thank you for the honour
which you are doing me ; I will, however, conduct myself
in such a way that you shall be repaid for it." He
enjoyed himself at the feast, and made merry ; afterwards
he said, " Dear Mrs. Gossip, it is our duty to take care of
the child, it must have good food that it may be strong.
I know a sheep-fold from which we might fetch a nice
morsel." The wolf was pleased with the ditty, and she
went out with the fox to the farm-yard. He pointed out
the fold from afar, and said, " You will be able to creep in
there without being seen, and in the meantime I will
look about on the other side to see if I can pick up a
chicken." He, however, did not go there, but sat down
at the entrance to the forest, stretched his legs and rested.
The she-wolf crept into the stable. A dog was lying there,
and it made such a noise that the peasants came running
out, caught Gossip Wolf, and poured a strong burning
mixture, which had been prepared for washing, over her
skin. At last she escaped, and dragged herself outside.
There lay the fox, who pretended to be full of complaints,
and said, " Ah, dear Mistress Gossip, how ill I have fared,
the peasants have fallen on me, and have broken every
limb I have ; if you do not want me to lie where I am and
perish, you must carry me away." The she-wolf herself
A^as only able to go away slowly, but she was in such
.oncern about the fox that she took him on her back, and

302 GRIMM's HOUSEPIOLD tales. [Tale 75.

slowly carried him perfectly safe and sound to her house.
Then the fox cried to her, " Farewell, dear ]\listress
Gossip, may the roasting you have had do you good,"
laughed heartily at her, and bounded off.

75.— THE FOX AND THE CAT.

It happened that the cat met the fox in a forest, and as
she thought to herself, " He is clever and full of ex-
perience, and much esteemed in the world," she spoke to
him in a friendly way. " Good-day, dear Mr. Fox, how
are you ? How is all with you ? How are you getting
through this dear season ? " The fox, full of all kinds of
arrogance, looked at the cat from head to foot, and for a
long time did not know whether he would give any answer
or not. At last he said, " Oh, thou wretched beard-cleaner,
thou piebald fool, thou hungry mouse-hunter, what canst
thou be thinking of? Dost thou venture to ask how I
am getting on ? What hast thou learnt ? How many arts
dost thou understand ? " "I understand but one," replied
the cat, modestlj^. " What art is that ? " asked the fox.
" When the hounds are following me, I can spring into a
tree and save myself." " Is that all ? " said the fox. " I
am master of a hundred arts, and have into the bargain a
sackful of cunning. Thou makest me sorry for thee ;
come vdih me, I will teach thee how people get awaj'-
from the hounds." Just then came a hunter with four
dogs. The cat sprang nimbly up a tree, and sat down at
the top of it, where the branches and foliage quite concealed
her. " Open your sack, Mr. Fox, open your sack," cried
the cat to him, but the dogs had already seized him, and
were holding him fast. "Ah, Mr. Fox," cried the cat.
" You with your hundred arts are left in the lurch ! Had
you been able to climb like me, you would not have lost
your life."

Tale 7G.] THE PINK. 303

76.— THE riNK.

ThePvE was once on a time a Queen to whom God had given
no children. Every morming she went into the garden
and prayed to God in heaven to bestow on her a son or a
daughter. Then an angel from heaven came to her and
said, "Be at rest, thou shalt have a son with the power of
wishing, so that whatsoever in the world he wishes for,
that shall he have." Then she went to the King, and
told him the joyful tidings, and when the time was come
she gave birth to a son, and the King was filled with
gladness. Every morning she went with the child to the
garden where the wild beasts were kept, and washed
herself there in a clear stream. It happened once when
the child was a little older, that it was lying in her arms
and she fell asleep. Then came the old cook, who knew
that the child had the power of wishing, and stole it
away, and he took a hen, and cut it in pieces, and drojDped
some of its blood on the Queen's apron and on her dress.
'1 hen he carried the child away to a secret place, where
a nurse was obliged to suckle it, and he ran to the King
and accused the Queen of having allowed her child to be
taken from her by the wild beasts. When the King saw
the blood on her apron, he believed this, fell into such a
passion that he ordered a high tower to be built, in which
neither sun nor moon could be seen, and had his wife
put into it, and walled up. Here she was to stay for
seven years without meat or drink, and die of hunger.
But God sent two angels from heaven in the shape of
white doves, which flew to her twice a day, and carried
her food until the seven years were OA^er.

The cook, however, thought to himself, " If the child
has the power of wishing, and I am here, he might very
easily get me into trouble." So he left the palace and
went to the boy, who was already big enough to speak,
and said to him, " Wish for a beautiful palace for thyself
with a garden, and all else that pertains to it." Scarcely
were the words out of the boy's mouth, when everj^thing
was there that he had wished for. After a while the cook

304 Grimm's household tales. [tale 76.

said to him, " It is not well for thee to be so alone, wish
for a pretty girl as a companion." Then the King's son
wished for one, and she immediately stood before him,
and was more beautiful than any painter could have
painted her. The two played together, and loved each
other with all their hearts, and the old cook went out
hunting like a nobleman. The thought, however, occurred
to him that the King's son might some day wish to be
with his father, and thus bring him into great peril. So he
went out and took the maiden aside, and said, " To-night
when the boy is asleep, go to his bed and plunge this knife
into his heart, and bring me his heart and tongue, and if
thou dost not do it, thou shalt lose thy life." Thereupon he
went away, and when he returned next day she had not
done it, and said, " Why should I shed the blood of an
innocent boy w^ho has never harmed any one ? " The
cook once more said, " If thou dost not do it, it shall cost
thee thy own life." When he had gone away, she had a
little hind brought to her, and ordered her to be killed,
and took her heart and tongue, and laid them on a plate,
and when she saw the old man coming, she said to the
boy, " Lie down in thy bed, and draw the clothes over
thee." Then the wicked wretch came in and said, "Where
are the boy's heart and tongue ? " The girl reached the
plate to him, but the King's son threw off the quilt, and
said, " Thou old sinner, why didst thou want to kill me ?
Now will I pronounce thy sentence. Thou shalt become
a black poodle and have a gold collar round thy neck, and
shalt eat burning coals, till the flames burst forth from thy
throat. ' And when he had spoken these words, the old
man was changed into a poodle dog, and had a gold collar
round his neck, and the cooks were ordered to bring up
some live coals, and these he ate, until the flames broke
forth from his throat. The King's son remained there a
short while longer, and he thought of his mother, and
wondered if she were still alive. At length he said to the
maiden, " I will go home to my own country ; if thou wilt
go with me, I will provide for thee." " Ah," she replied,
" the way is so long, and what shall I do in a strange
land where I am unknown ? " As she did not seem
quite willing, and as they could not be parted from

Tale 76.] THE PINK. 305

each other, he wished that she might be changed into
a beautiful pink, and took her with him. Then he
went away to his own country, and the poodle had to run
after him. He went to the tower in which his mother was
confined, and as it was so high, he wished for a ladder
which would reach up to the very top. Then he mounted
up and looked inside, and cried, " Beloved mother. Lady
Queen, are you still alive, or are you dead ? " She answered
*' I have just eaten, and am still satisfied," for she thought
the angels were there. Said he, " 1 am your dear son,
whom the wild beasts were said to have torn from your
arms ; but I am alive still, and will speedily deliver you."
Then he descended again, and went to his father, and
caused himself to be announced as a strange huntsman, and
asked if he could give him a place. The King said yes, if
he was skilful and could get game for him, he should come
to him, but that deer had never taken up their quarters in
any part of the district or country. Then the huntsman
promised to procure as much game for him as he coiild
possibly use at the royal table. So he summoned all the
huntsmen together, and bade them go out into the forest
with him. And he went with them and made them
form a great circle, open at one end where he stationed
himself, and began to wish. Two hundred deer and more
came running inside the circle at once, and the huntsmen
shot them. Then they were all placed on sixty country
carts, and driven home to the King, and for once he was
able to deck his table with game, after having had none
at all for years.

Now the King felt great joy at this, and commanded
that his entire household should eat with him next day,
and made a great feast. When they were all assembled
together, he said to the huntsman, " As thou art so clever,
thou shalt sit by me." He replied, " Lord King, your
majesty must excuse me, I am a poor huntsman." But
the King insisted on it, and said, " Thou shalt sit by me,"
until he did it. Whilst he was sitting there, he thought
of his dearest mother, and wished that one of the King's
principal servants would begin to speak of her, and would
ask how it was faring with the Queen in the tower, and if
she were alive still, or had perished. Hardly had he

VOL. I. X

306 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 76.

formed the wish than the marshal began, and said, " Your
majesty, we live joyously here, but how is the Queen living
in the tower ? Is she still alive, or has she died ? " But
the King replied, " She let my dear son be torn to pieces
by wild beasts ; I will not have her named." Then the
huntsman arose and said, " Gracious lord father, she is
alive still, and I am her son, and I was not carried away
by wild beasts, but by that wretch the old cook, who
tore me from her arms when she was asleep, and sprinkled
her apron with the blood of a chicken." Thereupon he
took the dog with the golden collar, and said, " That is
the wretch ! " and caused live coals to be brought, and these
the dog was compelled to devour before the sight of all, until
flames burst forth from its throat. On this the huntsman
asked the King if he would like to see the dog in his true
shape, and wished him back into the form of the cook, in
the which he stood immediately, with his white apron, and
his knife by his side. When the King saw him he fell
into a passion, and ordered him to be cast into the deepest
dungeon. Then the huntsman spake further and said,
*' Father, will you see the maiden who brought me up so
tenderly and who was afterwards to murder me, but did
not do it, though her own life depended on it?" The
King replied, "Yes, I would like to see her." The son
said, " Most gracious father, I will show her to you in the
form of a beautiful flower," and he thrust his hand into
his pocket and brought forth the pink, and placed it on
the royal table, and it was so beautiful that the King had
never seen one to equal it. Then the son said, "Now
will I show her to you in her own form," and wished that >
she might become a maiden, and she stood there looking
so beautiful that no painter could have made her look
more so.

And the King sent two waiting-maids and two atten- '
dants into the tower, to fetch the Queen and bring her to
the royal table. But when she was led in she ate nothing,
and said, " The gracious and merciful God who has sup-
ported me in the tower, will speedily deliver me." She
lived three days more, and then died happily, and when
she was buried, the two white doves which had brought
her food to the tower, and were angels of heaven, followed

Tale 77.] CLEVER GRETHEL. 307

her body and seated themselves on her grave. The aged
King ordered the cook to be torn in four pieces, but grief
consumed the King's own heart, and he soon died. His son
married the beautiful maiden whom he had brought with
him as a flower in his pocket, and whether they are still
alive or not, is known to God.

77.— CLEYER GEETIIEL.

There was once a cook named Grethel, who wore shoes
with red rosettes, and when she walked out with them on,
she turned herself this way and that, and thought, " You
certainly are a pretty girl ! " And when she came home
she drank, in her gladness of heart, a draught of wine, and
as wine excites a desire to eat, she tasted the best of what-
ever she was cooking until she was satisfied, and said,
" The cook must know what the food is like."

It came to pass that the master one day said to her,
" Grethel, there is a guest coming this evening ; prepare
me two fowls very daintily." " I will see to it, master,"
answered Grethel. She killed two fowls, scalded them,
plucked them, put them on the spit, and towards evening
set them before the fire, that they might roast. The
fowls began to turn brown, and were nearly ready, but
the guest had not yet arrived. Then Grethel called out
to her master, " If the guest does not come, I must take
the fowls away from the fire, but it will be a sin and a
shame if they are not eaten directly, when they are
juiciest." The master said, " I will run myself, and fetch
the guest." When the master had turned his back,
Grethel laid the spit with the fowls on one side, and
thought, " Standing so long by the fire there, makes one
hot and thirsty ; who knows when they will come ? Mean-
while, I will run into the cellar, and take a drink." She
ran down, set a jug, said, " God bless it to thy use,
Grethel," and took a good drink, and took yet anotiier
hearty draught.

Then she went and put the fowls down again to the

X 2

308 GRIMm's household tales. [Tale 77.

fire, basted them, and drove the spit merrily round. But
as the roast meat smelt so good, Grethel thought, " Some-
thing might be wrong, it ought to be tasted ! " 8he touched
it with her finger, and said, " Ah ! how good fowls are !
It certainly is a sin and a shame that they are not eaten
directly ! " She ran to the window, to see if the master
was not coming with his guest, but she saw no one, and
went back to the fowls and thought, " One of the wings is
burning ! I had better take it off" and eat it." So she cut
it ofi", ate it, and enjoyed it, and when she had done,
she thought, " the other must go down too, or else master
will observe that something is missing." When the two
wings were eaten, she went and looked for her master,
and did not see him. It suddenly occurred to her, " Who
knows ? They are perhaps not coming at all, and have
turned in somewhere." Then she said, " Hallo, Grethel,
enjoy yourself, one fowl has been cut into, take another
drink, and eat it up entirely ; when it is eaten you will
have some jDeace, why should God's good gifts be spoilt ? "
So she ran into the cellar again, took -an enormous drink
and ate up the one chicken in great glee. When one of
the chickens was swallowed down, and still her master
did not come, Grethel looked at the other and said,
" Wliere one is, the other should be likewise, the two go
together ; what's right for the one is right for the other ; I
think if I were to take another draught it would do me
no harm." So she took another hearty drink, and let the
second chicken rejoin the first.

When she was just in the best of the eating, her master
came and cried, " Haste thee, Grethel, the guest is coming
directly after me ! " " Yes, sir, I will soon ser^^e up,"
answered Grethel. Meantime the master looked to see
that the table was properly laid, and took the great knife,
wherewith he was going to carve the chickens, and
sharpened it on the steps. Presently the guest came, and
knocked politety and courteously at the house-door.
Grethel ran, and looked to see who was there, and when
she saw the guest, she put her finger to her lips and
said, " Hush ! hush ! get away as quickly as you can, if
my master catches you it will be the worse for you ; he
certainly did ask you to supper, but his intention is to cut

Tale 78.] THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON. 309

©ff your two ears. Just listen how he is sharpening the
knife for it ! " The guest heard the sharpening, and
hurried down the steps again as fast as he could. Grethel
was not idle ; she ran screaming to her master, and cried,
" You have invited a fine guest ! " " Eh, why, Grethel?
What do you mean by that ? " " Yes," said she, " he has
taken the chickens which I was just going to serve up, off
the dish, and has run away with them ! " " That's a nice
trick ! " said her master, and lamented the fine chickens.
" If he had but left me one, so that something remained
for me to eat." He called to him to stop, but the guest
pretended not to hear. Then he ran after him with the
knife still in his hand, crying, " Just one, just one,"
meaning that the guest should leave him just one chicken,
and not take both. The guest, however, thought no
otherwise than that he was to give up one of his ears, and
ran as if fire were burning under him, in order to take
them both home with him.

78.— THE OLD MAN AND HIS GEANDSON.

There was once a very old man, whose eyes had become
dim, his ears dull of hearing, his knees trembled, and
when he sat at table he could hardly hold the spoon,
and spilt the broth upon the table-cloth or let it run out of
his mouth. His son and his son's wife were disgusted at
this, so the old grandfather at last had to sit in the corner
behind the stove, and they gave him his food in an earth-
enware bowl, and not even enough of it. And he used to
look towards the table with his eyes full of tears. Once,
too, his trembling hands could not hold the bowl, and it
fell to the ground and broke. The young wife scolded
him, but he said nothing and only sighed. Then they
bought him a wooden bowl for a few half-pence, out of
which he had to eat.

They were once sitting thus when the little grandson of
four years old began to gather together some bits of wood
upon the ground. " What are you doing there ? " asked the

310 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES. [Tale 79.

father. " I am making a little trough," answered the ehild^
" for father and mother to eat out of when I am big."

The man and his wife looked at each other for a while,
and presently began to cry. Then they took the old
grandfather to the table, and henceforth always let him
eat with them, and likewise said nothing if he did spill a
little of anything.

79.— THE WATEE-NIX.

A LITTLE brother and sister were once playing by a well,
and while they were thus playing, they both fell in. A
water-nix lived down below, who said, " Now I have got
you, now you shall work hard for me ! " and carried them
off with her. She gave the girl dirty tangled flax to spin,
and she had to fetch water in a bucket with a hole in it,
and the boy had to hew down a tree with a blunt axe, and
they got nothing to eat but dumplings as hard as stones.
Then at last the children became so impatient, that they
waited until one Sunday, when the nix was at church,
and ran away. But when church was over, the nix saw
that the birds were flown, and followed them with great
strides. The children saw her from afar, and the girl
threw a brush behind her which formed an immense hill
of bristles, with thousands and thousands of spikes, over
which the nix was forced to scramble with great difficulty ;
at last, however, she got over. When the children saw
this, the boy threw behind him a comb which made a
great hill of combs with a thousand times a thousand teeth,
but the nix managed to keep herself steady on them, and
at last crossed over that. Then the girl threw behind her a
looking-glass which formed a hill of mirrors, and was so
slippery that it was impossible for the nix to cross it.
Then she thought, " I will go home quickly and fetch my
axe, and cut the hill of glass in half." Long before she
returned, however, and had hewn through the glass, the
children had escaped to a great distance, and the water-
nix was obliged to betake herself to her well again.

Tale 80.J THE DEATH OF THE LITTLE HEN. 311

80.— THE DEATH OF THE LITTLE HEN.

Once upon a time the little hen went with the little cock
to the nut-hill, and they agreed together that whichsoever
of them found a kernel of a nut should share it with the
other. IThen the hen found a large, large nut, but said
nothing about it, intending to eat the kernel herself.
The kernel, however, was so large that she could not
swallow it, and it remained sticking in her throat, so that
she was alarmed lest she should be choked. Then she
cried, " Cock, I entreat thee to run as fast as thou canst,
and fetch me some water, or I shall choke." The little
cock did run as fast as he could to the spring, and said,
*' Stream, thou art to give me some water ; the little hen
is lying on the nut-hill, and she has swallowed a large nut,
and is choking." The well answered, " First run to the
bride, and get her to give thee some red silk." The little
cock ran to the bride and said, " Bride, you are to give
me some red silk ; I want to give red silk to the well, the
well is to give me some water, I am to take the water to
the little hen who is lying on the nut-hill and has swal-
lowed a great nut-kernel, and is choking with it." The
bride answered, " First run and bring me my little wreath
which is hanging to a willow." So the little cock ran to the
willow, and drew the wreath from the branch and took it to
the bride, and the bride gave him some red silk for it, which
he took to the well, who gave hira some water for it.
Then the little cock took the water to the hen, but when he
got there the hen had choked in the meantime, and lay there
dead and motionless. Then the cock was so distressed that
he cried aloud, and every animal came to lament the little
hen, and six mice built a little carriage to carry her to her
grave, and when the carriage was ready they harnessed
themselves to it, and the cock drove. On the way, however,
they met the fox, who said, " Where art thou going, little
cock ? " " I am going to bury my little hen." "May I drive
with thee ? " " Yes, but seat thyself at the back of the car-
riage, for in the front my little horses could not drag thee."
Then the fox seated himself at the back, and after that

312 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 81.

the wolf, the bear, the stag, the lion, and all the beasts of the
forest did the same. Then the procession went onwards,
and they reached the stream. " How are we to get over ? "
said the little cock. A straw was lying by the stream,
and it said, " I will lay myself straight across, and then
you can drive over me." But when the six mice came to
the bridge, the straw slipped and fell into the water, and
the six mice all fell in and were drowned. Then they
were again in difficulty, and a coal came and said, " I am
large enough, I will lay myself across, and you shall
drive over me." So the coal also laid itself across the
water, but unhappily just touched it, on which the coal
hissed, was extinguished and died. When a stone saw
that, it took pity on the little cock, wished to help him,
and laid itself over the water. Then the cock drew the
carriage himself, but when he got it over and reached the
shore with the dead hen, and was about to draw over
the others who were sitting behind as well, there were
too many of them, the carriage ran back, and they all fell
into the water together, and were drowned. Then the
little cock was left alone with the dead hen, and dug a
grave for her and laid her in it, and made a mound
above it, on which he sat down and fretted until he
died too, and then every one was dead.

81.— BEOTHER LUSTIO.

There was once on a time a great war, and when it came
to an end, many soldiers were discharged. Then Brother
Lustig also received his dismissal, and besides that,
nothing but a small loaf of contract-bread, and four
kreuzers in money, with which he departed. St. Peter
had, however, placed himself in his way in the shape
of a poor beggar, and when Brother Lustig came up, he
begged alms of him. Brother Lustig replied, " Dear
beggar-man, what am I to give you ? I have been a
soldier, and have received my dismissal, and have nothing
but this little loaf of contract-bread, and four kreuzers of
money ; when that is gone, I shall have to beg as well as

Tale 81.] BROTHER LUSTIG. 313

you. Still I will give you something." Thereupon he
divided the loaf into four parts, and gave the apostle one
of them, and a kreuzer likewise. St. Peter thanked him,
went onwards, and threw himself again in the soldier's
way as a beggar, but in another shape ; and when he came
up begged a gift of him as before. Brother Lustig spoke
as he had done before, and again gave him a quarter of
the loaf and one kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him, and
went onwards, but for the third time placed himself in
another shape as a beggar on the road, and spoke to Brother
Lustig. Brother Lustig gave him also the third quarter of
bread and the third kreuzer. St. Peter thanked him,
and Brother Lustig went onwards, and had but a
quarter of the loaf, and one kreuzer. With that he went
into an inn, ate the bread, and ordered one kreuzer's worth
of beer. \\ hen he had had it, he journeyed onwards, and
then St. Peter, who had assumed the appearance of a
discharged soldier, met and spoke to him thus : " Good
day, comrade, canst thou not give me a bit of bread, and a
kreuzer to get a drink?" *' Where am I to procure it? "
answered Brother Lustig ; " I have been discharged, and
I got nothing but a loaf of ammunition-bread and four
kreuzers in money. I met three beggars on the road, and I
gave each of them a quarter of my bread, and one kreuzer.
The last quarter I ate in the inn, and had a drink with
the last kreuzer. Now my pockets are empty, and if
thou also hast nothing we can go a-begging together."
*' No," answered St. Peter, " we need not quite do that.
I know a little about medicine, and I will soon earn
as much as I require by that." " Indeed," said Brother
Lustig, " I know nothing of that, so I must go and beg
alone." " Just come with me," said St. Peter, " and if
I earn anything, thou shalt have half of it." " All right,"
said Brother Lustig, so they went away together.

Then they came to a peasant's house inside which they
heard loud lamentations and cries ; so they went in, and
there the husband was lying sick unto death, and very
near his end, and his wife was crying and weeping quite
loudly. " Stop that howling and crying," said St. Peter,
" 1 will make the man well again," and he took a salve
out of his pocket, and healed the sick man in a

314 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 81.

moment, so that he could get up, and was in perfect
health. In great delight the man and his wife said, " How
can we reward you ? What shall we give you ? " But
St. Peter would take nothing, and the more the peasant
folks offered him, the more he refused. Brother Lustig,
however, nudged St. Peter, and said, " Take something ;
sure enough we are in need of it." At length the woman
brought a lamb and said to St. Peter that he really must
take that, but he would not. Then Brother Lustig gave
him a poke in the side, and said, " Do take it, you stupid
fool ; we are in great want of it ! " Then St. Peter said
at last, " Well, I will take the lamb, but I won't carry it ;
if thou wilt insist on having it, thou must carry it."
" That is nothing," said Brother Lustig, " I will easily
carry it," and took it on his shoulder. Then they de-
parted and came to a wood, but Brother Lustig had begun
to feel the lamb heavy, and he was hungry, so he said to
St. Peter, " Look, that's a good place, we might cook the
lamb there, and eat it." " As you like," " answered St.
Peter, " but I can't have anything to do with the cooking ;
if thou wilt cook, there is a kettle for thee, and in the
meantime I will walk about a little until it is ready.
Thou must, however, not begin to eat until I have come
back, I will come at the right time." " Well, go, then,"
said Brother Lustig, " I understand cookery, I will
manage it." Then St. Peter went away, and Brother
Lustig killed the lamb, lighted a fire, threw the meat into
the kettle, and boiled it. The lamb was, however, quite
ready, and the apostle Peter had not come back, so
Brother Lustig took it out of the kettle, cut it up, and
found the heart. " That is said to be the best part," said
he, and tasted it, but at last he ate it all up. At length
St. Peter returned and said, " Thou mayst eat the whole
of the lamb thyself, I will only have the ht- art, give me
that." Then Brother Lustig took a knife and fork, and
pretended to look anxiously about amongst the lamb's
flesh, but not to be able to find the heart, and at last he
said abruptly, " There is none here." " But where can it
be?" said the apostle. "I don't know," replied Brother
Lustig, " but look, what fools we both are, to seek for the
lamb's heart, and neither of us to remember that a lamb

Tale 81.] BROTHER LUSTIG. 315

has no heart ! " " Oh," said Sto Peter, " that is something
quite new ! Every animal has a heart, why is a lamb to
have none ? " " No, be assured, my brother," said Brother
Lustig, " that a lamb has no heart ; just consider it
seriously, and then you will see that it really has none."
" Well, it is all right," said St. Peter, "if there is no heart,
then I want none of the lamb ; thou mayst eat it alone."
" What I can't eat now, I will carry away in my knap-
sack," said Brother Lustig, and he ate half the lamb, and
put the rest in his knapsack.

They went farther, and then St. Peter caused a great
stream of water to flow right across their path, and they
were obliged to pass through it. Said St. Peter, " Do thou
go first. " " No," answered Brother Lustig, " thou must
go first, " and he thought, " if the water is too deep I will
stay behind. " Then St. Peter strode through it, and the
water just reached to his knee. So Brother Lustig began
to go through also, but the water grew deeper and reached
to his throat. Then he cried, " Brother, help me ! " St.
Peter said, " Then wilt thou confess that thou hast eaten
the lamb's heart?" "No," said he, "I have not eaten
it." Then the water grew deeper still, and rose to his
mouth. " Help me, brother," cried the soldier. St. Peter
said, " Then wilt thou confess that thou hast eaten the
lamb's heart?" " No," he replied, " I have not eaten it."
St. Peter, however, would not let him be drowned, but
made the water sink and helped him through it.

Then they journeyed onwards, and came to a kingdom
where they heard that the King's daughter lay sick unto
death. " Hollo, brother ! " said the soldier to St. Peter,
" this is a chance for us ; if we can heal her we shall
be provided for, for life ! " But St. Peter was not half quick
enough for him, " Come, lift your legs, my dear brother,"
said he, " that we may get there in time." But St. Peter
walked slower and slower, though Brother Lustig did all
he could to drive and push him on, and at last they heard
that the princess was dead. " Now we are done for ! "
said Brother Lustig ; " that comes of thy sleepy way of
walking !" " Just be quiet," answered St. Peter, " I can
do more than cure sick people ; I can bring dead ones to
life again." " Well, if thou canst do that," said Brother

316 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 81.

Lustig, " it's all right, but thou shouldst earn at least half
the kingdom for us by that." Then they went to the
royal palace, where every one was in great grief, but St.
Peter told the King that he would restore his daughter
to life. He was taken to her, and said, " Bring me a
kettle and some water," and when that was brought, he
bade every one go out, and allowed no one to remain with
him but Brother Lustig. Then he cut off all the dead girl's
limbs, and threw them in the water, lighted a fire beneath
the kettle, and boiled them. And when the flesh had
fallen away from the bones, he took out the beautiful
white bones, and laid them on a table, and arranged them
together in their natural order. When he had done that,
he stepped forward and said three times, " In the name of.
the holy Trinity, dead woman, arise." And at the third
time, the princess arose, living, healthy and beautiful.
Then the King was in the greatest joy, and said to St.
Peter, " Ask for thy reward ; even if it were half my
kingdom, I would give it thee." But St. Peter said, " I
want nothing for it." " Oh, thou tomfool ! " thought
Brother Lustig to himself, and nudged his comrade's
side, and said, " Don't be so stupid ! If thou hast no need
of anything, I have." St. Peter, however, would have
nothing, but as the King saw that the other would very
much like to have something, he ordered his treasurer to
fill Brother Lustig's knapsack with gold. Then they went
on their way, and when they came to a forest, St. Peter
said to Brother Lustig, " Now, we will divide the gold."
" Yes," he replied, " we will." So St. Peter divided the
gold, and divided it into three heaps. Brother Lustig
thought to himself, " What craze has he got in his head
now ? He is making three shares, and there are only two
of us ! " But St. Peter said, " I have divided it exactly ;
there is one share for me, one for thee, and one for him
who ate the lamb's heart."

" Oh, I ate that ! " replied Brother Lustig, and hastily
swept up the gold. " You may trust what 1 say." " But
how can that be true," said St. Peter, "when a lamb
has no heart ? " " Eh, what, brother, what can you be
thinking of? Lambs have hearts like other animals, why
should they only have none ? " " Well, so be it," said

Tale 81.] BROTHER LUSTIG. 317

St. Peter, " keep the gold to yourself, but I will stay with
you no longer ; I will go my way alone." " As you like,
dear brother," answered Brother Lustig. " Farewell."

Then St. Peter went a different road, but Brother Lustig
thought, " It is a good thing that he has taken himself off,
he is a strange saint, after all." Then he had money
enough, but did not know how to manage it, squandered
it, gave it away, and when some time had gone by, once
more had nothing. Then he arrived in a certain country
where he heard that the King's daughter was dead.
" Oh, ho ! " thought he, " that may be a good thing for
me ; I will bring her to life again, and see that I am paid
as I ought to be." So he went to the King, and offered to
raise the dead girl to life again. Now the King had heard
that a discharged soldier was travelling about and
bringing dead persons to life again, and thought that
Brother Lustig was the man ; but as he had no confidence
in him, he consulted his councillors first, who said that
he might give it a trial as his daughter was dead. Then
Brother Lustig ordered water to be brought to him in a
kettle, bade every one go out, cut the limbs off, threw
them in the water and lighted a fire beneath, just as he
had seen St. Peter do. The water began to boil, the flesh
fell off, and then he took the bones out and laid them on
the table, but he did not know the order in which to lay
them, and placed them all wrong and in confusion. Then
he stood before them and said, " In the name of the most
holy Trinity, dead maiden, I bid thee arise," and he said
this thrice, but the bones did not stir. So he said it thrice
more, but also in vain : " Confounded girl that you are,
get up ! " cried he. " Get up, or it shall be worse for you ! "
When he had said that, St. Peter suddenly appeared in
his former shape as a discharged soldier ; he entered by
the window and said, " Godless man, what art thou doing ?
How can the dead maiden arise, when thou hast thrown
about her bones in such confusion?" "Dear brother, I
have done everything to the best of my ability," he
answered. " This once, I will help thee out of thy diffi-
culty, but one thing I tell thee, and that is that if ever
thou undertakest anything of the kind again, it will
be the worse for thee, and also that thou must neither

318 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 81.

demand nor accept the smallest thing from the King
for this ! " Thereupon St. Peter laid the bones in their
right order, said to the maiden three times, " In the name
of the most holy Trinity, dead maiden, arise," and the
King's daughter arose, healthy and beautiful as before.
Then St. Peter went away again by the window, and
Brother Lustig was rejoiced to find that all had passed off
so well, but was very much vexed to think that after all
he was not to take anything for it. " I should just like
to know," thought he, " what fancy that fellow has got in
his head, for what he gives with one hand he takes away
with the other — there is no sense whatever in it ! " Then
the King offered Brother Lustig whatsoever he wished to
have, but he did not dare to take anything ; however, by
hints and cunning, he contrived to make the King order
his knapsack to be filled with gold for him, and with that
he departed. When he got out, St. Peter was standing
by the door, and said, " Just look what a man thou art ;
did I not forbid thee to take anything, and there thou
hast thy knapsack full of gold ! " " How can I help that,"
answered Brother Lustig, " if people will put it in for
me ? " " Well, I tell thee this, that if ever thou settest
about anything of this kind again thou shalt suffer for it ! "
*' Eh, brother, have no fear now I have money, why should
I trouble myself with washing bones ? " " Faith," said St.
Peter, " the gold will last a long time ! In order that after
this thou mayst never tread in forbidden paths, I will
bestow on thy knapsack this property, namely, that what-
soever thou wishest to have inside it, shall be there.
Farewell, thou wilt now never see me more." " Good-bye,"
said Brother Lustig, and thought to himself, " I am very
glad that thou hast taken thyself off, thou strange fellow ;
I shall certainly not follow thee." But of the magical
power which had been bestowed on his knapsack, he
thought no more.

Brother Lustig travelled about with his money, and
squandered and wasted what he had as before. When
at last he had no more than four kreuzers, he passed by
an iun and thought, " The money must go," and ordered
three kreuzers' worth of wine and one kreuzer's worth of
bread for himself. As he was sitting there drinking, the

Tale 81.] BROTHER LUSTIG. 319

smell of roa&t goose made its way to his nose. Brother
Lustig looked about and j^eeped, and saw that the host
had two geese standing in the oven. Then he remembered
that his comrade had said that whatsoever he wished to
have in his knapsack should be there, so he said, " Oh, ho !
I must try that with the geese." So he went out, and
when he was outside the door, he said, " I wish those two
roasted geese out of the oven and in my knapsack," and
when he had said that, he unbuckled it and looked in, and
there they were inside it. " Ah, that's right ! " said he,
" now I am a made man ! " and went away to a meadow and
took out the roast meat. When he was in the midst of
his meal, two journeymen came up and looked at the
second goose, which was not yet touched, with hungry
eyes. Brother Lustig thought to himself, " One is enough
for me," and called the two men up and said, " Take the
goose, and eat it to my health." They thanked him, and
went with it to the inn, ordered themselves a half bottle
of wine and a loaf, took out the goose which had been
given them, and began to eat. The hostess saw them and
said to her husband, " Those two are eating a goose ;
just look and see if it is not one of ours, out of the oven."
The landlord ran thither, and behold the oven was empty !
" What I " cried he, " you thievish crew, you want to eat
goose as cheap as that ? Pay for it this moment ; or I will
wash you well with green hazel-sap." The two said, " We
are no thieves, a discharged soldier gave us the goose, out-
side there in the meadow." " You shall not throw dust
in my eyes that way ! the soldier was here — but he went
out by the door, like an honest fellow. I looked after him
myself; you are the thieves and shall pay ! " But as they
could not pay, he took a stick, and cudgelled them out of
the house.

Brother Lustig went his way and came to a place
where there was a magnificent castle, and not far from
it a wretched inn. He went to the inn and asked for a
night's lodging, but the landlord turned him away, and said,
*' There is no more room here, the house is full of noble
guests." " It surprises me that they should come to you
and not go to that splendid castle," said Brother Lustig.
" Ah, indeed," replied the host, " but it is no slight matter

320 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 81.

to sleep there for a night ; no one who has tried it so far,
has ever come out of it alive."

" If others have tried it," said Brother Lustig,. " I will
try it too."

" Leave it alone," said the host, " it will cost you your
neck." " It won't kill me at once," said Brother Lustig,
"just give me the key, and some good food and wine." So
the host gave him the key, and food and wine, and with
this Brother Lustig went into the castle, enjoyed his
supper, and at length, as he was sleepy, he lay down on
the ground, for there was no bed. He soon fell asleep, but
during the night was disturbed by a great noise, and
when he awoke, he saw nine ugly devils in the room,
who had made a circle, and were dancing around him.
Brother Lustig said, " Well, dance as long as you like,
but none of you must come too close." But the devils
pressed continually nearer to him, and almost stepped
on his face with their hideous feet. " Stop, you devils'
ghosts," said he, but they behaved still worse. Then
Brother Lustig grew angry, and cried, " Hola ! but I will
soon make it quiet," and got the leg of a chair and struck
out into the midst of them with it. But nine devils
against one soldier were still too many, and when he
struck those in front of him, the others seized him behind
by the hair, and tore it unmercifully. " Devils' crew,"
cried he, " it is getting too bad, but wait. Into my knap-
sack, all nine of you ! " In an instant they were in it,
and then he buckled it up and threw it into a corner.
After this all was suddenly quiet, and Brother Lustig lay
down again, and slept till it was bright day. Then came
the inn-keeper, and the nobleman to whom the castle be-
longed, to see how he had fared ; but when they perceived
that he was merry and well they were astonished, and asked,
" Have the spirits done you no harm, then ? " " The
reason why they have not," answered Brother Lustig,
"is because I have got the whole nine of them in my
knapsack ! You may once more inhabit your castle quite
tranquilly, none of them will ever haunt it again." The
nobleman thanked him, made him rich presents, and
begged him to remain in his service, and he would
provide for him as long as he lived. "No," replied

Tale 81.] BROTHER LUSTIG. 321

Brother Lustig, " I am used to wandering about, I will
travel farther." Then he went away, and entered into a
smithy, laid the knapsack, which contained the nine
devils on the anvil, and asked the smith and his appren-
tices to strike it. So they smote with their great
hammers with all their strength, and the devils uttered
howls which were quite pitiable. When he opened the
knapsack after this, eight of them were dead, but one
which had been lying in a fold of it, was still alive,
slipped out, and went back again to hell. Thereupon
Brother Lustig travelled a long time about the world,
and those who know them can tell many a story about
him, but at last he grew old, and thought of his end, so
he went to a hermit who was known to be a pious man,
and said to him, " I am tired of wandering about, and
want now to behave in such a manner that I shall enter
into the kingdom of Heaven." The hermit replied,
"There are two roads, one is broad and pleasant, and
leads to hell, the other is narrow and rough, and leads to
heaven." " I should be a fool," thought Brother Lustig,
" if I were to take the narrow, rough road." So he set
out and took the broad and pleasant road, and at length
came to a great black door, which was the door of Hell.
Brother Lustig knocked, and the door-keeper peeped out
to see who was there. But when he saw Brother Lustig,
he was terrified, for he was the very same ninth devil who
had been shut up in the knapsack, and had escaped from
it with a black eye. So he pushed the bolt in again as
quickly as he could, ran to the devil's lieutenant, and
said, " There is a fellow outside with a knapsack, who
wants to come in, but as you value your lives don't allow
him to enter, or he will wish the whole of hell into his knap-
sack. He once gave me a frightful hammering when I
was inside it." So they called out to Brother Lustig
that he was to go away again, for he should not get
in there ! " If they won't have me here," thought he,
*' I will see if I can find a place for myself in Heaven,
for I must be somewhere." So he turned about and went
onwards until he came to the door of Heaven, where he
knocked. St. Peter was sitting hard by as door-keeper.
Brother Lustig recognised him at once, and thought,
VOL. I. Y

322 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 82.

" Here I find an old friend, I shall get on better."
But St. Peter said, " I really believe that thou wantest
to come into Heaven." " Let me in, brother ; I must
get in somewhere ; if they would have taken me
into Hell, I should not have come here." " No," said
St. Peter, "thou shalt not enter." "Then if thou
wilt not let me in, take thy knapsack back, for I will
have nothing at all from thee." " Give it here, then,"
said St. Peter. Then Brother Lustig gave him the
knapsack into Heaven through the bars, and St. Peter
took it, and hung it up beside his seat. Then said
Brother Lustig, " And now I wish myself inside my knap-
sack," and in a second he was in it, and in Heaven, and
St. Peter was forced to let him stay there.

82.— GAMBLING HANSEL.

Once upon a time there was a man who did nothing but
gamble, and for that reason people never called him
anything but Gambling Hansel, and as he never ceased
to gamble, he played away his house and all that he had.
Now the very day before his creditors were to take
his house from him, came the Lord and St. Peter, and
asked him to give them shelter for the night. Then
Gambling Hansel said, " For my part, you may stay the
night, but I cannot give you a bed or anything to eat."
So the Lord said he was just to take them in, and they
themselves would buy something to eat, to which Gambling
Hansel made no objection. Thereupon St. Peter gave
him three groschen, and said he was to go to the baker's
and fetch some bread. So Gambling Hansel went, but
when he reached the house where the other gambling
vagabonds were gathered together, they, although they
had won all that he had, greeted him clamorously, and
said, " Hansel, do come in." " Oh," said he, " do you
want to win the three groschen, too ? " On this they
would not let him go. So he went in, and played away
the three groschen also. Meanwhile St. Peter and the

Tale 82.] GAMBLING HANSEL. 323

Lord were waiting, and as he was so long in coming,
they set out to meet him. When Gambling Hansel came,
however, he pretended that the money had fallen into
the gutter, and kept raking about in it all the while to
find it, but our Lord already knew that he had lost it in
play. St. Peter again gave him three groschen, and
now he did not allow himself to be led away once more,
but fetched them the loaf. Our Lord then inquired if he
had no wine, and he said, "Alack, sir, the casks are all
empty ! " But the Lord said he was to go down into the
cellar, for the best wine was still there. For a long time
he would not believe this, but at length he said, " Well,
I will go down, but I know that there is none there."
When he turned the tap, however, lo and behold, the best
of wine ran out ! So he took it to them, and the two
passed the night there. Early next day our Lord told
Gambling Hansel that he might beg three favours. The
Lord expected that he would ask to go to Heaven ; but
Gambling Hansel asked for a pack of cards with which he
could win everything, for dice with which he would win
everything, and for a tree whereon every kind of fruit
would grow, and from which no one who had climbed up,
could descend until he bade him do so. The Lord gave
him all that he had asked, and departed with St. Peter.

And now Gambling Hansel at once set about gambling
in real earnest, and before long he had gained half the
world. Upon this St. Peter said to the Lord, "Lord,
this thing must not go on, he will win, and thou lose, the
whole world. We must send Death to him." When Death
appeared, Gambling Hansel had just seated himself at the
gaming-table, and Death said, " Hansel, come out a while."
But Gambling Hansel said, " Just wait a little until the
game is done, and in the meantime get up into that tree
out there, and gather a little fruit that we may have some-
thing to munch on our way." Thereupon Death climbed
up, but when he wanted to come down again,* he could
not, and Gambling Hansel left him up there for seven
years, during which time no one died.

So St. Peter said to the Lord, " Lord, this thing must
not go on. People no longer die ; we must go ourselves."
And they went themselves, and the Lord commanded

y 2

324 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 82.

Hansel to let Death come down. So Hansel went at once
to Death and said to him, " Come down," and Death took
him directly and put an end to him. They went away to-
gether and. came to the next world, and then Gambling
Hansel made straight for the door of Heaven, and knocked
at it. " Who is there ? " " Gambling Hansel." " Ah, we
will have nothing to do with him! Begone!" So he
went to the door of Purgatory, and knocked X)nce more,
"Who is there?" "Gambling Hansel." "Ah, there is
quite enough weeping and wailing here without him.
We do not want to gamble, just go away again." Then
he went to the door of Hell, and there they let him in.
There was, however, no one at home but old Lucifer and
the crooked devils who had just been doing their evil
work in the world. And no sooner was Hansel there
than he sat down to gamble again. Lucifer, however,
had nothing to lose, but his mis-shapen devils, and
Gambling Hansel won them from him, as with his cards
he could not fail to do. And now he was off again with
his crooked devils, and they went to Hohenfueit and
pulled up a hop-pole, and with it went to Heaven and
began to thrust the pole against it, and Heaven began
to crack. So again St. Peter said, " Lord, this thing
cannot go on, we must let him in, or he will throw us
down from Heaven." And they let him in. But
Gambling Hansel instantly began to play again, and
there was such a noise and confusion that there was no
hearing what they themselves were saying. Therefore
St. Peter once more said, " Lord, this cannot go on, we
must throw him down, or he will make all He^,ven
rebellious." So they went to him at once, and threw
him down, and his soul broke into fragments, and went
into the gambling vagabonds who are living this very
day.

Tale 83.] HANS IN LUCK. 325

83.— HANS IN LUCK.

Hans had served his master for seven years, so he said
to him, " Master, my time is up ; now I should be glad to
go back home to my mother ; give me my wages." The
master answered, " You have served me faithfully and
honestly ; as the service was so shall the reward be ; "
and he gave Hans a piece of gold as big as his head.
Hans pulled his handkei'chief out of his pocket, wrapped
Tip the lump in it, put it on his shoulder, and set out on
the way home.

As he went on, always putting one foot before the other,
he saw a horseman trotting quickly and merrily by on
a lively horse. ^ "Ah!" said Hans quite loud, "what a
fine thing it is to ride !- There you sit as on a chair; you
Btumble over no stones, you save your shoes, and get on,
you don't know how."

The rider, who had heard him, stopped and called out,
" Hollo ! Hans, why do you go on foot, then ? "

" I must," answered he, " for I have this lump to carry
home ; it is true that it is gold, but I cannot hold my
head straight for it, and it hurts my shoulder."

" I will tell you what," said the rider, " we will ex-
change : I will give you my horse, and you can give me
your lump."

" With all my heart," said Hans, " but I can tell you,
you will have to crawl along with it."

The rider got down, took the gold, and helped Hans
up ; then gave him the bridle tight in his hands and
said, " If you want to go at a really good pace, you must
click your tongue and call out, " Jup ! Jup ! "

Hans was heartily delighted as he sat upon the horse
and rode away so bold and free. After a little wi.ile . he
thought that it ought to go faster, and he began to click
with his tongue and call out, " Jup ! Jup ! " The horse
put himself into a sharp trot, and before Hans knew
where he was, he was thrown off and lying in a ditch which
separated the field from the highway. The horse would
have gone off too if it had not been stopped by a country-

o

26 GRIMM'S household tales. [Tale 83.

man, who was coming along tlie road and driving a cow
before him.

Hans got his limbs together and stood up on his legs
again, but he was vexed, and said to the countryman,
" It is a poor joke, this riding, especially when one gets
hold of a mare like this, that kicks and throws one off,
so that one has a chance of breaking one's neck. Never
again will I mount it. Now I like your cow, for one can
walk quietly behind her, and have, over and above, one's
milk, butter and cheese every day without fail. What
would I not give to have such a cow." " Well," said the
countryman, " if it would give you so much pleasure, I
do not mind giving the cow for the hcrse." Hans agreed
with the greatest delight ; the countryman jumped upon
the horse, and rode quickly away.

Hans drove his cow quietly before him, and thought
over his lucky bargain. " If only I have a morsel of
bread — and that can hardly fail me — I can eat butter and
cheese with it as often as I like ; if I am thirsty, I can
milk my cow and drink the milk. Good heart, what more
can I want ? "

When he came to an inn he made a halt, and in his
great content ate up what he had with him — his dinner
and supper — and all he had, and with his last few
farthings had half a glass of beer. Then he drove his
cow onwards along the road to his mother's village.

As it drew nearer mid-day, the heat was more oppres-
sive, and Hans found himself upon a moor which it took
about an hour to cross. He felt it verj hot and his tongue
clave to the roof of his mouth with thirst. " I can find
a cure for this," thought Hans ; " I will milk the cow now
and refresh myself with the milk." He tied her to a
withered tree, and as he had no pail he put his leather
cap underneath ; but try as he would, not a drop of milk
came. And as he set himself to work in a clumsy way,
the impatient beast at last gave him such a blow on his
head with its hind foot, that he fell on the ground, and for
a long time could not think where he was.

By good fortune a butcher just then came along the
road with a wheel-barrow, in which lay a young pig.
*' What sort of a trick is this ?" cried he, and helped the

Tale 83.] HANS IN LUCK. 327

good Hans up. Hans told him what had happened.
The butcher gave him his flask and said, " Take a drink
and refresh yourself. The cow will certainly give no
milk, it is an old beast ; at the best it is only fit for the
plough, or for the butcher." " Well, well," said Hans, as
he stroked his hair down on his head, " who would have
thought it ? Certainly it is a fine thing when one can kill
a beast like that at home ; what meat one has ! But I do
not care much for beef, it is not juicy enough for me.
A young pig like that now is the thing to have ; it tastes
quite different ; and then there are the sausages ! "

" Hark ye, Hans," said the butcher, " out of love for you
I will exchange, and will let you have the pig for the
cow." " Heaven repay you for your kindness ! " said
Hans as he gave up the cow, whilst the pig was unbound
from the barrow, and the cord by which it was tied was
put in his hand.

Hans went on, and thought to himself how everything
was going just as be wished; if he did meet with any
vexation it was immediately set right. Presently there
joined him a lad who was carrying a fine white goose
under his arm. They said good morning to each other,
and Hans began to tell of his good luck, and how he had
always made such good bargains. The boy told him that
he was taking the goose to a christening-feast. " Just
lift her," added he, and laid hold of her by the wings ;
*' how heavy she is — she has been fattened up for the last
eight weeks. Whoever has a bit of her when she is
roasted will have to wipe the fat from both sides of his
mouth." " Yes," said Hans, as he weighed her in one
hand, " she is a good weight, but my pig is no bad one."
Meanwhile the lad looked suspiciously from one side to
the other, and shook his head. " Look here," he said at
length, " it may not be all right with your 23ig. In the
village through which I passed, the Mayor himself had
just had one stolen out of its sty. 1 fear — I fear that you
have got hold of it there. They have sent out some people
and it would be a bad business if they caught you with
the pig ; at the very least, you would be shut up in the
dark hole."

The good Hans was terrified. "Goodness!" he said.

328 GKIMM's household tales. [Tale 83.

*' help me out of this fix ; you know more about this place
than I do, take my pig and leave me your goose.'*
" I shall risk something at that game," answered the lad,
*' but I will not be the cause of your getting into trouble."
So he took the cord in his hand, and drove away the
pig quickly along a by-path.

The good Hans, free from care, went homewards with
the goose under his arm. "When I think over it pro-
perly," said he to himself, " I have even gained by the
exchange : first there is the good roast-meat, then the
quantity of fat which will drip from it, and which will
give me dripping for my bread for a quarter of a year,
and lastly the beautiful white feathers ; I will have my
pillow stuff"ed with them, and then indeed I shall go to
sleep without rocking. How glad my mother? will be ! "

As he was going through the last village, there stood
a scissors-grinder with his barrow ; as his wheel whirred
he sang —

"I sharpen scissors and quickly grind,
My coat blows out in the wind behind."

Hans stood still and looked at him ; at last he spoke to
him and said, " All's well with you, as you are so merry
with your grinding." "Yes," answered the scissors-
grinder, " the trade has a golden foundation. A real
grinder is a man who as often as he puts his hand into
his pocket finds gold in it. But where did you buy that
fine goose ? "

" I did not buy it, but exchanged my pig for it."

" And the pig ? "

" That I got for a cow."

" And the cow ? "

" I took that instead of a horse."

" And the horse ? "

" For that I gave a lump of gold as big as my head."

"And the gold?"

" Well, that was my wages for seven years' service."

" You have known how to look after yourself each
time," said the grinder. " If you can only get on so far
as to hear the money jingle in your pocket whenever you
stand up, you will have made your fortune."

Tale 83.] HANS IN LUCK. 329

" How sliall I manage that ? " said Hans. " You must
be a grinder, as I am ; nothing particular is wanted for
it but a grindstone, the rest finds itself. I have one
here ; it is certainly a little worn, but you need not give
me anything for it but your goose ; will you do it ? "

" How can you ask ? " answered Hans. " I shall be
the luckiest fellow on earth ; if I have money whenever
I put my hand in my pocket, what need I trouble about
any longer ? " and he handed him the goose and received
the grindstone in exchange. " Now," said the grinder,
as he took up an ordinary heavy stone that lay by him,
" here is a strong stone for you into the bargain ; you
can hammer well upon it, and straighten your old nails.
Take it with you and keep it carefully."

Hans loaded himself with the stones, and went on with
a contented heart; his eyes shone' with joy. "I must
have been born with a caul," he cried ; " everything I
want happens to me just as if I were a Sunday-child."

Meanwhile, as he had been on his legs since daybreak,
he began to feel tired. Hunger also tormented him, for
in his joy at the bargain by which he got the cow he had
eaten up all his store of food at once. At last he could
only go on with great trouble, and was forced to stop
every minute ; the stones, too, weighed him down dread-
fully. Then he could not help thinking how nice it
would be if he had not to carry them just then.

He crept like a snail to a well in a field, and there he
thought that he would rest and refresh himself with a
cool draught of water, but in order that he might not
injure the stones in sitting down, he laid them carefully
by his side on the edge of the well. Then he sat down
on it, and was about to stoop and drink, when he made a
slip, pushed against the stones, and both of them fell into
the water. When Hans saw them with his own eyes
sinking to the bottom, he jumped for joy, and then knelt
down, and with tears in his eyes thanked God for having
shown him this favour also, and delivered him in so good
a way, and without his having any need to reproach him-
self, from those heavy stones which had been the only
things that troubled him.

" There is no man under the suu so fortunate as I,"

330 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 84.

he cried out. With, a light heart and free from every
burden he now ran on until he was with his mother at
home.

84.— HANS MARRIED.

There was once on a time a young peasant named Hans,
whose uncle wanted to find him a rich wife. He there-
fore seated Hans behind the stove, and had it made very
hot. Then he fetched a pot of milk and plenty of white
bread, gave him a bright newly-coined farthing in his
hand, and said, " Hans, hold that farthing fast, crumble
the white bread into the milk, and stay where you are,
and do not stir from that spot till I come back." " Yes,"
said Hans, " I will do all that." Then the wooer put
on a pair of old patched trousers, went to a rich peasant's
daughter in the next village, and said, " Won't you marry
my nephew Hans — you will get an honest and sensible man
who will suit you ? " The covetous father asked, " How
is it with regard to his means ? Has he bread to break ? "
" Dear friend," replied the wooer, " my young nephew
has a snug berth, a nice bit of money in hand, and plenty
of bread to break, besides he has quite as many patches
as I have," (and as he spoke, he slapped the patches on
his trousers, but in that district small pieces of land
were called patches also.) " If you will give yourself the
trouble to go home with me, you shall see at once that
all is as I have said." Then the miser did not want to
lose this good opportunity, and said, "If that is the case,
I have nothing further to say against the marriage."

So the wedding was celebrated on the appointed day,
and when the young wife went out of doors to see the
bridegroom's property, Hans took off his Sunday coat and
put on his patched suiock-frock and said, " I might spoil
my good coat." Then together they went out and wher-
ever a boundary line came in sight, or fields and meadows
were divided from each other, Hans pointed with his
finger and then slapped either a large or a small patch on
his smock-frock, and said, " That patch is mine, and that
too, my dearest, just look at it," meaning thereby that

Tale 85.] THE GOLD-CHILDKEN. 331

his wife should not stare at the broad land, but look at
his garment, which was his own.

" Were you indeed at the wedding?" "Yes, indeed I
was there, and in full dress. My head-dress was of snow ;
then the sun came out, and it was melted. My coat was
of cobwebs, and I had to pass by some thorns which tore
it off me, my shoes were of glass, and I pushed against a
stone and they said, " Klink," and broke in two.

85.— THE GOLD-CHILDREN.

TnEFE was once a poor man and a poor woman who had
nothing but a little cottage, and who earned their bread
by fishing, and always lived from hand to mouth. But it
came to pass one day when the man was sitting by the
water-side, and casting his net, that he drew out a fish en-
tirely of gold. As he was looking at the fish, full of as-
tonishment, it began to speak and said, " Hark you,
fisherman, if you will throw me back again into the
water, I will change your little hut into a splendid
castle." Then the fisherman answered, " Of what use
is a castle to me, if I have nothing to eat ? " The gold
fish continued, " That shall be taken care of, there will be
a cupboard in the castle in which, when you open it, shall
be dishes of the most delicate meats, and as many of them
as you can desire." "If that be true," said the man,
"then I can well do you a favour." "Yes," said the fish,
" there is, however, the condition that you shall disclose to
no one in the world, whosoever he may be, whence your
good luck has come, if you speak but one single word, all
will be over." Then the man threw the wonderful fish
back again into the water, and went home. But where
his hovel had foimerly stood, now stood a great castle.
He opened wide his eyes, entered, and saw his wife
dressed in beautiful clothes, sitting in a splendid room,
and she was quite delighted, and said, " Husband, how
has all this come to pass? It suits me very well."
*' Yes," said the man, " it suits me too, but I am frightfully
hungry, just give me something to eat." Said the wife.

332 Grimm's household tales. [Tale 85.

*' But I have got nothing and don't know where to find
anything in this new house." " There is no need of your
knowing," said the man, " for I see yonder a great cup-
board, just unlock it." When she opened it, there stood
cakes, meat, fruit, wine, quite a bright prospect.

Then the woman cried joyfully, " What more can you
want, my dear ? " and they sat down, and ate and drank
together. When they had had enough, the woman said,
*' But, husband, whence come all these riches ? " " Alas,"
answered he, " do not question me about it, for I dare not
tell you anything ; if I disclose it to any one, then all our
good fortune will fly." " Very good," said she, " if I am
not to know anything, then I do not want to know any-
thing." However, she was not in earnest ; she never
rested day or night, and she goaded her husband until in
his impatience he revealed that all was owing to a
wonderful golden fish which he had caught, and to which
in return he had given its liberty. And as soon as the
secret was out, the splendid castle with the cupboard
immediately disappeared, they were once more in the
old fisherman's hut, and the man was obliged to follow
his former trade and fish. But fortune would so have it,
that he once more drew out the golden fish. " Listen,"
said the fish, " if you will throw me back into the water
again, I will once more give you the castle with the
cupboard full of roast and boiled meats ; only be firm, for
your life's sake don't reveal from whom you have it, or
you will lose it all again ! " "I will take good care,"
answered the fisherman, and threw the fish back into the
water. Now at home everything was once more in its
former magnificence, and the wife was overjoyed at their
good fortune, but curiosity left her no peace, so that after
a couple of days she began to ask again how it had come ;
to pass, and how he had managed to secure it. The man ;
kept silence for a short time, but at last she made him so
angry that he broke out, and betrayed the secret. In an
instant the castle disappeared, and they were back again
in their old hut. " Now you have got what you want,"
said he ; " and we can gnaw at a bare bone again." " Ah,'*
said the woman, " I had rather not have riches if I am not
to know from whom they come, for then I have no peace."

Tale 85.] THE GOLD-CHILDREN. 333

The man went back to fish, and after a while he
chanced to draw out the gold fish for a third time.
"Listen," said the fish, *' I see very well that I am fated
to fall into yonr hands, take me home and cut me into six
pieces ; give your wife two of them to eat, two to your
horse and bury two of them in the ground, then they will
bring you a blessing." The fisherman took the fish home
with him, and did as it h^d bidden him. It came to
pass, however, that from the two pieces that were buried
in the ground two golden lilies sprang up, that the horse
had two golden foals, and the fisherman's wife bore two
children who were made entirely of gold. The children
grew up, became tall and handsome, and the lilies and
horses grew likewise. Then they said, " Father, we
want to mount our golden steeds and travel out in the
world." But he answered sorrowfully, " How shall I
bear it if you go away, and I know not how it fares
with you ? " Then they said, " The two golden lilies
remain here. By them you can see how it is with us ;
if they are fresh, then we are in health ; if they are
withered, we are ill ; if they perish, then we are dead."
So they rode forth and came to an inn, in which were
many people, and when they perceived the gold-children
they began to laugh, and jeer. When one of them heard
the mocking he felt ashamed and would not go out into
the world, but turned back and went home again to
his father. But the other rode forward and reached
a great forest. As he was about to enter it, the people
said, "It is not safe for you to ride through, the
wood is full of robbers who would treat you badly.
You will fare ill, and when they see that you are all
of gold, and your horse likewise, they will assuredly
kill you."

But he would not allow himself to be frightened, and
said, " I must and will ride through it." Then he took
bear-skins and covered himself and his horse with them,
80 that the gold was no more to be seen, and rode
fearlessly into the forest. When he had ridden onward
a little he heard a rustling in the bushes, and heard
voices speaking together. From one side came cries of,
** There is one," but from the other, " Let him go, 'tis an

334 GRIMM's household tales. [Tale 85.

idle fellow, as poor and bare as a church-mouse, what
should we gain from him ? "

So the gold-child rode joyfully through the forest, and
no evil befell him. One day he entered a village wherein
he saw a maiden, who was so beautiful that he did not
believe that any more beautiful than she, existed in the
world. And as such a mighty love took possession of
him, he went up to her and said, *' I love thee with my
whole heart, wilt thou be my wife ? " He, too, pleased the
maiden so much that she agreed and said, " Yes, I will be
thy wife, and be true to thee thy whole life lono;." Then
they were married, and just as they were in the greatest
happiness, home came the father of the bride, and when
he saw that his daughter's wedding was being celebrated,
he was astonished, and said, " Where is the bridegroom? "
They showed him the gold-child, who, however, still wore
his bear-skins. Then the father said wratlifully, " A
vagabond shall never have my daughter ! " and was about
to kill him. Then the bride begged as hard as she could,
and said, " He is ray husband, and I love him with all my
heart ! " until at last he allowed himself to be appeased.
Nevertheless the idea never left his thoughts, so that next
morning he rose early, wishing to see whether his
daughter's husband was a common ragged beggar. But
when he peeped in, he saw a magnificent golden man in
the bed, and the cast-off bear-skins lying on the groimd.
Then he went back and thought, '" What a good thing it
was that I restrained my anger ! I should have com-
mitted a great crime." But the gold-child dreamed that
he rode out to the chase of a splendid stag, and when he
awoke in the morning, he said to his wife, " I must go
out hunting." She was uneasy, and begged him to stay
there, and said, " You might easily meet with a great
misfortune," but he answered, " I must and will go."

Thereupon he got up, and rode forth into the forest,
and it was not long before a fine stag crossed his path
exactly according to his dream. He aimed and was about
to shoot it, when the stag ran away. He gave chase over
hedges and ditches for the whole day Avithout feeling
tired, but in the evening the stag vanished from his
sight, and when the gold-child looked round him, he was

Tale 85.] THE GOLD-CHILDREN. 335

standing before a little house, wherein was a witch. He
knocked, and a little old woman came out and asked,
" What are you doing so late in the midst of the great
forest ? " " Have you not seen a stag ? " " Yes,"
answered she, " I know the stag well," and thereupon a
little dog which had come out of the house with her,
barked at the man violently. " Wilt thou be silent, thou
odious toad," said he, " or I will shoot thee dead." Then
the witch cried out in a passion, " What ! will you slay
my little dog ? " and immediately transformed him, so
that he lay like a stone, and his bride awaited him in
vain, and thought, " That which I so greatly dreaded,
which lay so heavily on my heart, has come upon him ! "
But at home the other brother was standing by the gold-
lilies, when one of them suddenly drooped. " Good
heavens ! " said he, " my brother has met with some great
misfortune ! I must away to see if I can possibly rescue
him." Then the father said, " Stay here, if I lose you
also, what shall I do ? " But he answered, " I must and
will go forth ! "

Then he mounted his golden horse, and rode forth and
entered the great forest, where his brother lay turned to
stone. The old witch came out of her house and called
him, wishing to entrap him also, but he did not go near
her, but said, " I will shoot you, if you will not
bring my brother to life again." She touched the stone,
though very unwillingly, with her forefinger, and he was
immediately restored to his human shape. But the two
gold-children rejoiced, when they saw each other again,
kissed and caressed each other, and rode away together
out of the forest, the one home to his bride, the other to
his father. The father then said, " I knew well that you
had rescued your brother, for the golden lily suddenly
rose up and blossomed out again." Then they lived
happily, and all prospered with them until their death.

336 GEIMM's household tales. [Tale 86.

8G.— THE FOX AND THE GEESE.

The fox once came to a meadow in whicli was a flock of
fine fat geese, on which he smiled and said, " I come at
the nick of time, you are sitting together quite beautifully,
so that I can eat you up one after the other." The geese
cackled with terror, sprang up, and began to wail and beg
piteously for their lives. But the fox would listen to
nothing, and said, " There is no mercy to be had ! You
must die." At length one of them took heart and said,
" If we poor geese are to yield up our vigorous young
lives, show us the only possible favour and allow us one
more prayer, that we may not die in our sins, and then
we will place ourselves in a row, so that you can always
pick yourself out the fattest." " Yes," said the fox, " that
is reasonable, and a pious request. Pray away, I will
wait till you are done." Then the first began a good
long prayer, for ever saying, " Ga ! Ga ! " and as she
would make no end, the second did not wait until her
turn came, but began also, " Ga ! Ga ! " The third and
fourth followed her, and soon they were all cackling
together.

When they have done praying, the story shall be con-
tinued further, but at present they are still praying
without stopping.

NOTES.

1. — The Frog-king, or Iron Henry.

This comes from Hesse, where there is also another story. A
King who had three daughters was ill, and asked for some water
from the well in his court-yard. The eldest went down and drew a
glassful, but when she held it up to the sun, she saw that it
was not clear. She thought this very strange, and was about to
empty it again, when a frog appeared in the well, stretched forth
its head, and at last jumped on to the edge of it. It then said to her,

"If thou wilt my sweetheart be,
Clear, clear water I'll give to thee ;
But if my love thou wilt not be,
I'll make it as muddy as muddy can be."

" Oh, indeed, who would be the sweetheart of a disgusting frog? "
cried the King's daughter, and ran away. When she went back
again she told her sisters about the wonderful frog which was in
the well and made the water muddy. Then the second went down
and drew a glassful, which was also so thick that no one could drink
it. The frog again sat on the brink, and said,

" If thou wilt my sweetheart be, I

Clear, clear water I'll give to thee."

" That would be a chance for me ! " cried the King's daughter, and
ran away. At last the third also went to draw water, but she did
not succeed better, and the frog cried to her,

" If thou wilt my sweetheart be,
Clear, clear water I'll give to thee."

" Very well, then," she answered laughingly, " I will be your
sweetheart ; I will really ; only draw me some pure water that is fit
to drink." She thought to herself, " What can it signify, it is very
easy to please him by saying that ; after all, a stupid frog can never
be my sweetheart." The Irog had, however, leapt back into the

VOL. I. a

338 grimm's household tales.

well, and when the King's daughter again drew some water, it
was so clear that the sun was actually sparkling in it for joy.
So she took the glass upstairs and said to her sisters, "Why
were you so stupid as to be afraid of the frog ? " Then the King's
daughter thought no more about it, and went to bed quite happy.
And when she had lain there a while, but had not fallen asleep,
she heard a noise outside the door, and some one sang,

"Open thy door, open thy door,
Princess, youngest princess !
Hast thou forgotten what thou didst say
When I sat by the well this very day,
That thou wouldst my sweetheart be,
If clear, clear water I gave to thee?**

" Why, if that is not my sweetheart the frog ! " said the King's
child. " Well, as I promised, I will open the door for him." So
she got up, and opened the door for him a very little, and then lay
down again. The frog hopped after her, and at last hopped on the
bottom of the bed to her feet, and stayed lying there, and when the
night was over and day dawning, it leapt down and went out by
the door. The next night when the King's daughter was in
bed, it again crawled to the door, and sang its little song, she again
opened the door, and the frog lay for another night at her feet. On
the third night it came once more ; then she said, " Mind, this
is the last time that I shall let thee in ; in future it won't happen.'*
Then the frog jumped under her pillow, and she fell asleep. And
when she awoke next morning, and expected the frog to hop away
again, a handsome young prince was standing before her, who said
that he had been the iDewitched frog, but was now set free,
because she had promised to be his sweetheart. Then they both
went to the King, who gave them his blessing; a magnificent
wedding was celebrated, and the two other sisters were vexed that
they had not taken the frog to be their sweetheart. In a third
story from the district of Paderborn, the King's son, after he has
been delivered from his frog's shape, gives his betrothed, when he
takes leave of her, a handkerchief, on which his name is written in
red, and tells her if that should become black it will betoken that he
is either dead or unfaithful. One day the princess sees, to her sorrow,
that the name really has become black. On this she and her two
sisters disguise themselves as troopers, and hire themselves to him.
Some people suspect them, and strew peas,* thinking that if they
really are girls and fall, they will be afraid, but if they are men
they will swear. They have, however, discovered the plot, and when

* Die Zwolf Jager^ No. 67, has many features in common with this
story.— Tr.

NOTES. — TALE 1. 339

they fall on the peas, they swear. After this when the King's son
travels away with the false bride, the three have to ride behind the
carriage. On the way, the King's son hears a loud crack, and
cries, " Stop ; the carriage is breaking ! " on this, the true bride
behind the carriage, cries, " Alas, no, it is one of my heart-strings
which is breaking." Twice more there is a crack, and each time he
receives the same answer. Then he remembers the true bride,
recognizes her in the disguise of the trooper, and marries her.

This story is one of the oldest in Germany. It was called by the
name of Iron Henry, from the faithful servant who had caused his
sorrowful heart to be bound with iron bands. Eollenhagen thus
names it in the Old German Household Tales, and Philiinder von
Sittewald refers to it (3, 42) when he says, " Then her heart would
lie in my hand, more fast than in an iron band," which occurs in the
same proverbial fashion in Froschmeuseler. The band of sorrow, the
stone which lies on the heart, is spoken of elsewhere; An
old Minnesinger says beautifully, " She is stamped on my heart
as on steel ; " and Heinrich von Sar (Man. p. 1. 36) has the
expression, *' My heart lies in bands." We find in the Lied von
Heinrich dem Lowen, St. 59, " her heart lay in bands : " in Keller's
Wiirteniberger (p. 35), " the body bound with iron bands." Wirnt
says of the breaking heart,

•

von sime tode si erschrac
s6 sere daz ir herze brast
Iflte als ein diirrer ast,
swd man den brichet enzwei.*

Wigalois, 7697-82.

In its main features the story is still current in Scotland. In
the Complaynt of Scotland (written in 1548), the tale of the
" wolf of the warldis end," which has unfortunately been entirely lost,
is mentioned among other stories, perhaps the Saga of the Northern
Fenrir. J. Leyden, in his edition of the Complaynt (Edinb. 1801,
pp. 234, 235), believes that fragments of it are still existing in
various songs and nursery tales, and says that he has heard frag-
ments sung in which the " well of the warldis end " occurred, and was
called the " well of Absolom " and " the cauld well sae weary." He
connects our story with it, although the well of the world may
very easily have worked its way into various traditions, and we
perceive in the German no connection with the wolf (or should
we in the original read wolf instead of well ?) Leyden's words are
these : " According to the popular tale, the lady is sent by
her stepmother to draw water from the well of the world's end.

* His death shocked her so much that her heart broke with a sound
loud as that of a dry bough which is broken in two.

z 2

340 grimm's household tales.

She arrives at the well, after encountering many dangers, but soon
perceives that her adventures have not come to a conclusion. A
frog emerges from the well, and before it suffers her to draw water,
obliges her to betroth herself to the monster, under penalty of
bein'g torn to pieces. The lady returns safe, but at midnight the
frog-lover appears at the door and demands entrance, according to
promise, to the great consternation of the lady and her nurse."

"Open the door, my hinny, my hart,
Open the door, my ain wee thing ;
And mind the words that you and I spalc,
Down in the meadow at the well-spring."

The frog is admitted, and addresses her :

" Take me up on your knee, my dearie,
Take me up on your knee, my dearie,
And mind the words that you and I spak
At the cauld well sae weary."

The frog is finally disenchanted, and appears in his original form
as a prince.

It is likewise deserving of notice that the name of Henry for a
servant, has something about it that is popular, as is fully shown in
our edition of Der arme Heinrich, 213-216.

[This story bears some resemblance to the ballad of Earl
Mar's daughter. She went out to play and saw a dove sitting
in a tree, which she persuaded to come down by promising it a cage
of gold and silver. The bird flew down and alighted on her head.
She took it home and kept it daintily, but when night came a
handsome youth stood by her side, who told her that he was the
dove she had brought home, and that his mother was a queen
skilled in witchcraft, who had turned him into a dove to charm
such maidens as herself, and that he loved her and would live and
die with her. She entreated him never to leave her.

For six years he lived in her bower, and she bore him seven sons,
but whenever one was born he instantly flew away with it, and
gave it into his mother's care. After twenty-three years a great
lord came to court the maiden, who refused him, and said she was
content to dwell alone with her bird cow-me-doo. Hereupon the
Earl swore he would kill the bird. The bird heard of this, and
flew to his mother's castle beyond the sea, and told her that next
day his wife, the mother of his seven sons, was to be married to
another. The mother changed twenty-four stalwart men into
storks, the seven sons into swans, and cow-me-doo into a hawk,
and the birds flew over the sea to Earl Mar's castle, seized the
men and bound them to trees, and then seized the maiden and
carried her away with them. — Tr.]

NOTES. — TALES 2, 3. 341

2. — The Cat and Mouse in Partnership.

From Hesse, where it is also told of the cock and hen. These
found a precious stone in the dirt, sold it to a jewelltr, and bought
a pot of grease with the proceeds, which they put on a shelf
for winter. The hen, however, by degrees emptied it secretly, and
when that came to light, the cock was quite furious, and pecked his
hen to death. Afterwards, in great repentance and sorrow, he
buried her, as in the story of the Death of the Hen (No, 80). There
is also a story about the cock and the hen in Pomerania, where the
children are named. Top-off, Half-done, and Upside-down,* see
Firmenich's Volkerstimmen, pp. 91, 92. It is also told of the fox
and cock, who found a honey-pot. The children at their christening
received the significant names. Top-off, Half-done, Quite-done. See
Miillenhoff, No. 28, The Fox and the Bear, In Norwegian in
Asbjornsen, No. 17, there is also TJie Bear and the Fox. In
it the names are, Just-begun, Half-eaten, and Cleaned-out. The
negro story of the Hen and Cat,, No. 2, has a similar incident.

3. — Our Lady's Child.

From Hesse. According to another story, the poor man goes
into a forest and is about to hang himself because he cannot support
his children. Then comes a black carriage with four black horses ;
a beautiful maiden dressed in black, alights from it, and tells him
that in a thicket in front of his house, he will find a bag of money,
and, in return for that, he must give her what is concealed in his
house. The man consents, and finds the money, but the thing
which is concealed is his yet unborn child. When it is born, the
maiden comes and wants to carry it away, but as the mother begs
so hard, the maiden leaves it until its twelfth year. Then she
takes it away to a black castle, which is furnished magnificentlv,
and the child may go into every part of it except one chamber.
For four years the girl is obedient, then she can no longer resist
the torment of curiosity, and j)eeps mto the chamber through
a crack.

She sees four black maidens, who absorbed in reading, appear
alarmed at the instant, but her foster-mother comes out, and says,
*' I must drive thee away ; what wilt thou lose most willingly '? "
'* Speech," replies the girl. Slie gives her such a blow on the
mouth that the blood streams out, and drives her forth. She has
to pass the night under a tree, and next morning the King's son
finds her there, takes her away with him, and against his mother's
will, marries the dumb beauty. When the first child comes into

* It is a custom among village-folks when drinking tea together to
turn their cups upside down when they are empty. — Tr.

342 grimm's household tales.

the world, the wicked mother-in-law takes it and throws it into the
water, sprinkles the sick Queen with blood, and gives out that she
has devoured her own child. Thus it happens twice more, and
then the innocent Queen, who cannot defend herself, is to be
burnt. She is already standing in the fire when the black
carriage comes ; the maiden steps out of it, and goes through the
flames, which instantly sink down and are extinguished; reaches
the Queen, smites her on the mouth, and thus restores her speech ;
the other three maidens bring the three children whom they have
rescued from the water, the treachery comes to light, and the
wicked stepmother is put into a barrel filled with snakes and
poisonous adders, and rolled down a hill.

Allied to this are the Poor Mart's Daughter^ in Meier, No. 36, a
Norwegian story in Asbjornsen, No. 8, and Graamantel, a
Swedish one (see further on). The legend of St. Ottilia has some
resemblance to it, as told by Frau Naubert in her Volksmdrchen^
(Part I.) In the Fentamerone (1. 8) a goat's face is given as a
punishment.

In Wendish compare The Virgin Mary as Godmother, Haupt and
Schmaler, No. 16, p. 179 ; in Wallachian, The WaUed-up Mother,
of Schott, No. 2. The root-idea of many doors which may be
opened and one which may not, often re-appears and with
various introductions, as in Fitcher's Vogel (No. 46). As regards
each apostle being placed in a shining dwelling, compare the Bymn
in praise of St. Anno, verse 720, where it is said that the bishops
were sitting together in heaven like stars. It is an old incident that
maidens who are robbed of their clothes should cover themselves
with their long hair. It is related of St. Agnes in the Fihl. maxima
27, 82^ ; of St. Magdalen, by Petrarch, in Latin verse, and there is a
picture of the latter in the Magasin pittoresque, 1. 21. In an old
Spanish romance a King's daughter sits in an oak, and her long hair
covers the whole tree. (Diez's Ancient Spanish Romances^ 177.
Geibel's Volkslieder und Bomanzen der Spanier^ pp. 151, 152).

4. — Leaening to Feae,

This story is generally told in other places with new, or differently
arranged, trials of courage, and is allied to the sagas Brother
Lustig and Spielhansl, Nos. 81, 82. Parzival goes in an enchanted
bed through the castle, 566, 567, in the same way as the youth
who had no fear. The root of this is a Mecklenburgh story. The
game of skittles played with dead men's bones, is inserted from a
story from the district of Schwalm,* in Hesse. In another from

* This district took its name from the river Schwalm, which rises in the
Voo-elsberg, in the N.E. of the Grand Duchy of Hesse, and joins the Edder
near Altenberg, after a northward course of 35 miles. — Tr.

NOTES. — TALE 4. 343

Zwehrn it is related that ghosts come and invite the youth
to play a game with nine bones and a dead man's head, which he
fearlessly accepts, but in which he loses all his money. At mid-
night the spectres disappear of their own accord. From this also is
taken the incident of the corpse being brought in, which he warms
in bed. It contains, however, no further trials, and it lacks the
jesting conclusion, which, on the other hand, aj'pears in a third
H 'ssian story, where the youth is a tailor, and his master's wife
puurs a bucket ot cold water over him as he is lying in bed. In a
fourth tale, this great bravery is ascribed to a youth from the
Tyrol. He ttikes counsel with his father as to what trade will be
most profitable for him, and at last resolves to learn how to fear.
A new feature in this is, that a spirit comes in by night who is
entirely covered with knives, and orders the Tyrolese youth to sit
down and have his beard shaved by him, as in the story Stumme
Liebe, by Musaus, 4. 65-82 ; and a similar incident is told by Cl.
Brentano in his notes on Die Grilndung Prags. The youth
does it without fear, but the ghost when he has shaved him
wants to cut his throat as well, but at that very moment the clock
strikes twelve, and the ghost disappears. In this part there is a
connection with the story of the youth who kills the dragon
and cuts out its tongue, by means of which he atterwards makes
himself known to be the victor, and wins the King's daughter,
as is fully detailed in the story of The Gold Children (No. 85).
A fifth story from Zwehrn deserves to be given here at full
length.

A certain man once lived in the world whose father was a smith,
who carried the youth to the grave-yard and to every place where it
was terrible, but he never knew what fear was. Then his father
said, " When once thou go<^st out into the world thou wilt soon
learn it." He went out, and it chanced that he arrived in a
village by night, and as all the houses were shut, he lay down
beneath the gallows. And as he saw a man hanging there, he
spoke to him, and said, "Why art thou hanging there?" Then
the man who was hanging, answered, " I am innocent. The
schoolmaster stole the little bell of the alms-bag, and denounced
me as the thief. If thou wilt help me to a decent burial, I will
present thee with a staff, with which thou canst drive away all
spirits. The schoolmaster has concealed the little bell under a
great stone in his cellar." When the youth heard that, he got
up, went into the village to the schoolmaster's house and
knocked. The schoolmaster got up, but would not open his
door, because he was afraid, but the other cried, " If thou dost not
open the door, 1 will break it open." So the schoolmaster opened
it, and the youth instantly seized him just as he was, in his shirt,
took him on his back, and carried him to the judge's house.

344 gkimm's household tales.

Then he cried aloud, " Open your door, I am bringing a thief."
When the judge came out, the youth said, " Take down from the
gallows the poor sinner outside ; he is innocent, and hang up this
one in his stead ; he stole the little bell from the alms-bag, and it is
lying in his cellar, under a great stone." The judge sent thither
and the little bell was found, so the schoolma^^ter was forced to
confess the theft. Then the judge pronounced the sentence, that
the innocent man should be taken down from the gallows, and
honourably buried, and that the thief should be hanged in his
place.

The next night when the innocent man was already lying in a
Christian grave, the young smith went out once more. Then the
spirit came, and presented him with the staff which he had promised
him. Said the smith, " Now I will go out into the world, and
look for the " Scare-rae-well."

It so happened that he arrived in a town where there was a
bewitched castle, which no one ever dared to enter. When the
King heard that a man had arrived who was afraid of nothing,
he caused him to be summoned, and said, " If thou wilt deliver this
castle for me, I will make thee so rich that thou shalt know no
end to thy possessions." " Oh, yes," answered he, " I'll do it
willingly, only some one must show me the way to the castle."
Said the King, " I have no keys to it." " I don't want any," he
replied, " I will contiive to get inside." Then was he taken
thither, and when he reached the first gate, he struck it with his
staff, and it sprang open instantly, and behind it lay the keys of the
whole castle. He opened the first inside door, and as it opened, the
spirits came against him. One of them had horns, another spat fire,
and all were black as coal. Then he said, " What queer folks are
these! They might be the devil himself ! They may all go home
with me, and mend my father's fire for him." And when they
rushed forward against him, he took his staff, and smote them all
together, six of them at a time, and seized them, and pushed
them into a room where they could no longer stir. Then he
took the keys in his hand again, and opened the second door.
There stood a coffin, and a dead man lay in it, and on the
ground beside it, was a great black poodle which had a burning
chain round its neck. So he went up to it, and struck the coffin
with his staff, and said, "Why art thou lying in there,, old
charcoal-burner ? " The dead body rose up, and wanted to terrify
him, but he cried, " Out with thee at once." And as the
dead man did not come immediately, he seized him, and thrust
him among the rest. Then he returned and caught hold of the
burning chain, and wound it round himself, crying, " Away with
thee ! " But the black dog defended itself, and spat fire. Then
said he, " If thou canst do that, there is all the more reason for

NOTES. — TALE 4. 345

taking thee with me. Thou also shalt help my father to li2;ht his
fire." But before he was aware, the dog was gone, and he was
most likely the deviL

Now he had still one little key for the last door. As he opened
that, twelve black spirits which had horns and bnathed fire rushed
on him, but he struck them with his staff, dragged them out,
and threw them into a water-cistern, the cover of which he shut
fast.

" I have laid them to rest," said he, well pleased, " but it has
made me warm ; I should like a diink after it." So he went into
the cellar, tapped some of the old wine which was there, and en-
joyed himself. But the King said, " I should just like to know how
he has got on," and sent his confessor thither, for no one else dared
to trust himself in that bewitched castle. When the confessor, who
was crooked and hump-backed, came to the castle and knocked
the young smith opened the door for him, but when he saw him in
all his deformity, and in his black gown, he cried, " After all, there
is another of them lett. What dost thou want, thou crooked old
devil ? " and he locked him up too.

So the King waited one day lunger, but as the confessor did not
return at all, he sent a number of warriors who were to make their
way into the castle by force. The smith said, " Here are some men
coming, so I will gladly let thera in." They asked him why he
had shut up the King's confessor ? " Eh 1 what ! " said he. " But
how could 1 know that he was the confessor? And why did he
come here in his black gown?" Then the soldiers asked
him what they were to say to the King. " That he may come
here himself," he replied, "and that the castle is cleared."

When the King heard that, he came full of joy, and found
great possessions in jewels, silver-work, and old wine, all of which
were once more in his power.

Then he ordered a coat to be made for the young smith, which
was entirely of gold. " No," said the smith, " 1 will not have that ;
it is the coat of a fo^'l," and threw it away, and said, "But I will
not leave the castle until the King has shown me the Scare-me-well ;
for that I must really get to know." Then the King had a white
linen blouse made for him, and in order to do him some good in spite
of himself he had a number of pieces of gold sewn inside it. But the
young smith said, " That is too heavy for me ! " and threw it away,
put on his old blouse, and said, "Bat before I go home to my father
I must just see the Scare-mc-well." Then he took his staff, and
went to the King, who led him up to a cannon. The young smith
looked at it well and went round about it, and asked what kind of
a thing that was ? Said the King, " Stand a little aside,"
and ordered the cannon to be charged and fired off. When
the young smith heard the violent report, he cried, " That was ^he

346 geimm's household tales.

Scare-me-well, now I have seen it ! " and went home quite
content.

A sixth story is from the neighbourhood of Paderborn. Hans
continually tells his father that he is afraid of nothing in the
world. The father wishes to break him of this, and orders his
two daughters to hide themselves at night in the charnel-house,
and then he will send out Hans, and they, wrapped in white
sheets, are to pelt him with bones, which will soon terrify him. At
eleven o'clock the father says, " I have the tooth-ache so badly ;
Hans, go and fetch me a dead man's bone ; but take care of thyself,
the bone-house may be haunted." When he gets there,
the sisters pelt him with dead men's bones. " Who is throwing
things at me?" cries Hans. "If thou dost it again, thou shalt
just see ! " They pelt him again, and he seizes them, and wrings
their Decks. Then he takes a bone, and goes home with it. " How
hast thou fared, Hans ? " says the father. " Well : but there were
two white things there, which threw things at me ; however, I have
wrung their necks." " Alack," cries the father, " they were thy
two sisters ; go away at once, or thou too, wilt have to die." Hans
goes his way into the wide world, and says everywhere, " I am
called Hans Fear-naught." He has to watch three nights in a
castle, and thus free it from ghosts. The King gives him a.
soldier as a companion. Hans begs for two bottles of wine and
a horsewhip. At night it becomes so cold that the two can bear it
no longer. The soldier goes out and is about to light a fire in the
stove, when the ghosts wring his neck. Hans stays in the room
and warms himself with wine. Then there is a knock. Hans cries,
" Come in, if thou hast a head." No one comes, but there is another
knock, and then Hans cries, " Come in, even if thou hast no head."
Then there is a crackling sound in the beam above, Hans looks up,
and sees a mouse-hole ; a pot full of tow falls down, and a
poodle-dog is formed from this, which grows visibly, and at last
becomes a tall man, whose head, however, is not at the top of his
body, but under his arm. Hans says to him, " Put thy head on,
and we will have a game at cards." The monster obeys, and they
play together. Hans loses a thousand thalers, which he promises
to pay the next night. Then, however, all happens as on the
previous night. A soldier who has once more been given to Hans
as a com])anion is cold, and goes out to light a fire. As he is
stooping, his head is cut off. Hans again hears the knocking, and
cries, " Come in, either with or without thy head." The ghost
comes in with his head under his arm, but has to put it on in order
to be able to play again. Hans wins two thousand thalers from
the ghost, which he promises to bring the following night. This
last night begins in the same way, the soldier who leaves the room
in order to light the fire, is thrust into the stove by the spirits, and

NOTES. — TALE 5. 347

is suffocated inside it ; the powerful spirit goes to Hans, gives him
the thousand thalers he owes him, and tells him he is to take him-
self off at once, or it wnll cost him his life, for all the spirits are
coming to a great meeting. But Hans will not go, and says, " I
will soon show you all the door." The two struggle with each
other to see which shall give way, until at last they agree to count
three, and that the one who can then first thrust his finger into
the key-hole shall stay. Hans counts, and the ghost gets his finger
in first, on which Hans fetches a morsel of wood and a hammer,
and wedges it tightly in, and then takes his horsewhip and beats
him so violently, that the ghost promises never to let either him-
self or any of his spirits be seen in the castle again, if he may be
allowed to remain in the little flower-garden behind the castle.
Hans consents to that, and sets him free, on which the ghost and
all the spirit-folk run instantly into the garden. The King causes
a high wall to be built round it, the castle is delivered, and Hans
receives the King's daughter to wife. This story appears
again with characteristic variations in AVolf's Hausmarchen, p.
328-408; in Zingerle, p. 281-290; in Prohle's, Kinder und
Volksmdrchen, No. 33. In Netherlandish there is The Bold
Soldier, in Wolf's Niederldndische Sagen, p. 517. In Swedish,
there is Molbech's Graakappen, No. 14. In Danish, Molbech's De
Modige Svend, No. 29.

Besides these, a similar character appears in an Icelandic story.
Hreidmar is also apparently a stupid fellow of this kind, who
wishes for once to know what rage is, and does get to know
it. Goethe has written most thoughtfully about this story ; see his
Works, 1833, xlvi. 274. Works of the Scandinavian Literature
Society, 1816-17, p. 208, and following.

5. — The Wolf and the Little Goats.

From the Maine district. In Pomerania, it is said to be related
of a child which, during its mother's absence, has been devoured by
the children's ghost, which corresponds with Knecht Euprecht. But
the stones which he swallows with the child make the ghost
so heavy that he falls down on the ground, and the child springs
out again unhurt. It occurs in Alsace, see Stober's Volkshuchlein,
p. 100. Boiler (No. 33) tells the story quite simply. The mother
warns her kid against the wolf, which it refuses to admit when it
comes with its voice disguised. The story is still more abridged in an
old poem (Beinhart Fuchs, 346),in which, however, the kid recognizes
the wolf through a chink. So too in Burkard Waldis (Frank-
furt, 1563, Fah. 24), and in Hulderich Wolgemuth's Erneuerter
uFsopus (Frankf. 1623). A life-like story comes to us from
Transylvania, see Haltrich, No. 33. In Lafoutaine (iv. i. 15)

348 grimm's household tales.

the fable is as simple as in Corrozet, but the former mentions
the incident of the white paw which, as in our story, the little
kid asks to see ; and we remember a fragment of a complete
French story. The wolf goes to the miller, stretches out his grey
paw, and says,

" Meunier, meunier, trempe-moi ma patte dans ta farine
blanche."

*' Non, non ! Non, non ! "

" Alors je te mange."

On this the miller does it from fear.

The Nereid, Psamathe, sent the wolf to the flocks of Peleus and
Telamon ; the wolf devoured them one and all, and was then turned
to stone, just as in our story, stones were sewn into him. But the
saga of the wolf being turned to stone has a deeper foundation.

6. — Faithful John.

From Zwehrn. There is another story from the Paderborn
district. At the bidding of an old woman, a poor peasant invites
the first person whom he meets on the road, who is a stranger to
him, to stand as godfather. It so happens that this is the King,
who therefore holds the child at the christening, and gives him the
name of Koland. The Queen has been confined at the same time,
and her child called Joseph. When a year has passed by, the
King sends for the little Roland, and adopts him as his child.
Roland and Joseph grow together, and look on each other as brothers.
When they are twenty years of age, the King one day rides away
and leaves them the keys of all the rooms, all of which
they may open but one. Roland, however, is so curious that on
the thi'd day he persuades Joseph to go into the forbidden room
with him. It is entirely hung with cloth, but when Roland lifts
this up he beholds the portrait of a wonderfully beautiful maiden,
and faints at the sight ; Joseph carries him out. Roland is restored
to consciousness, but from that hour is sick with love, and knows no
rest until they both go to the kingdom where the King's daughter
lives. She is shut up in a tower for seven years. In the
evening she is taken in a closed carriage to her parents, and early
in the morning before daybreak back again to the tower. Roland
and Joseph cannot see her even once, and have to go home as
they came. Then their father gives them four ships; three
furnished with cannon, and one with the most beautiful waves.
They sail thither, and give out that they are merchants, and
Joseph begs the King to make a law that only one person at a time
may go on board his ship, as it would otherwise be too much
crowded. This is done, and now the King himself comes on board
the ship, and after him the Queen, and they buy largely. And as

NOTES. — TALE 6. 349

all the things are so beautiful, their daughter is to see them too.
But no sooner has she stepped on board than the anchor is raised,
and the lovely bride carried away. The King sends a ship to bring
her back again, but that is sunk by the cannon. During the voyage
Joseph is one night on the watch, and hears a murmuring, and a
voice which cries, " Do you know any news?" " News enough,"
answers another, " the King's beautiful daughter is stolen away,
and is here in this ship ; but whosoever intends to have her for his
wife must first find some one who will cut the black horse's head
off." This alarms Joseph, and the next night, when Roland is
going to keep watch, Joseph begs him to sleep instead, and jiive up
the watch to him. Then he again hears the voices. " Do you
know any news ?" " News enough ; the King's daughter is stolen
away, and is shut up here in the ship ; but whosoever intends to
have her to wife, can only succeed if any one can be found
who, when the bridegroom is drinking the bride's health, will strike
away the glass from his lips so that the fragments fly round about.
He, however, who speaks of this will be turned into stone to the height
of his heart." Joseph is on the watch on the third night also,
and then he hears, " The bridegroom cannot obtain the bride
unless some one can be found to cut off the seven heads of the
dragon which will be thrust in through the window on the night of
the marriage. He, however, who speaks of this will be stone to his
head." On the following day they arrive ; the King comes to meet
them with his people, and brings with him a white horse for Joseph,
and a black one for Roland. Joseph mounts his, and cuts the black
one's head off. All are astonished and excited, and ask the cause,
but he replies, " I may and dare not tell you." In the same way
also at the wedding-feast, when Roland is about to drink his bride's
health, Joseph strikes the glass away from his lips so that the
fragments fly about. At last at night when Roland and his bride
are already asleep, Joseph walks with his drawn sword backwards
and forwards in the room before the window. Suddenly something
begins to roar and bellow, and a dragon thrusts in his seven heads.
He cuts them off at one blow, and the blood spirts into the
room and fills his boots. The watch hearing the noise, summon the
King, who comes, and when he opens the door the blood streams out
to meet him, and he sees Joseph with drawn sword. " Alas, what
hast thou done, my son ? " he cries. Then Joseph cannot do
otherwise than tell him all, and is immediately encased in stone, so
that no one can see anything of him but his head, which seems to
be asleep. In the course of a year the young Queen brings a son into
the world, and then she dreams on three successive nights that if
Joseph is smeared with the blood of the child he will be set free. She
relates her dream to Roland, who summons together all the coun-
sellors of the kingdom, who say that indeed he must sacrifice his

350 grimm's household tales.

child for the sake of his friend. So the child is christened,
and then its head is cut off. Joseph is smeared with the blood of
the child, the stone disappears forthwith, and he stands up and
says, " Alas, dear brother, why hast thou awakened me ? I have slept
so sweetly." They tell him all that has passed, and then Joseph
says, " Now I must help thee once more," and ties up the dead child
in a linen cloth, and goes away with him. When he has already
wandered about for three-quarters of a year, and troubled at heart
that he can find no help, seats himself beneath a tree, an aged man
comes and gives him two small bottles wherein are the water of hfe,
and the water of beauty. Joseph now carries the child home, but is
forced to beg, as he has nothing left. After a quarter of a year, he
reaches his father's castle, and then he sits down on the bridge and
rubs the child first with the water of life, which restores it to life,
and then with the water of beauty, which makes it more fresh and
beautiful than all others. Thereupon he takes it to its parents, who
rejoice over it with all their hearts. There is a third variant in
Wolfs Hausmarcheny p. 383.

It is evidently the saga of the faithful friends. Amicus and
Amelius. The one while appearing to wrong the other, in reality
gives his life for him; on the other hand, the latter sacrifices his
own children in order to bring his friend back to existence, though,
by a miracle, these are preserved. The counterpart of the voluntary
sacrifice of a pure virgin's life (in Ber arme Heinrich) is to be found
in the story of Hildebrand, the faithful master of Dieterich ; and
the story of the Child Oney may be said to form a connecting
link between them. Compare The Two Brothers (No. 60), Ber
arme Heinrich, p. 187, and following, and further indications in
Athis, p. 46. The fate which in Hartmann's poem is announced
by the physician, is here declared by the ravens — birds of destiny.
The bridal-shirt* (a woven one, as it is called, in the language of
the people, in contradistinction to one which is cut out) which con-
sumes with fire whosoever puts it on, resembles the garment which
Dejanira sends to Hercules, and Medea to Glauce. In our story it
has apparently so happened that a witch for some reason or other
desires to destroy the young King. In the corresponding, but still
very individual Italian story {Pentam. iv. 9), it is probably the
father of the stolen bride who sends misfortune after them by his

* A shirt without seams is probably what is meant. Such garments
plav a large part for good or for evil, in mythology. When Ragnar
Lodbrog went on his last expedition to England, Aslanga his wife, who
foreboded evil, gave him a shirt she had woven of fine grey silk in which
no stitch had been put. He wore it instead of armour, and none could
wound him, though at length he was captured. Finally, he was thrown
into a pit full of snakes, none of which would touch him till the shirt was
removed. See Ragnar Lodbrog's Saga, 16th chapter. — Tr.

NOTES. — TALES 7, 8, 9, 10. 351

curses. A Kussian story in Dieterich, p. 38, should be compared,
and the Negro story in Kolle (see further on).

A ship is similarly equipped, in the poem of Gudrun (1060 and
following) on the voyage when Horand has to fetch Hilda.

7. — The Good Bakgain.

From the neighbourhood of Paderborn. The amusing trick by
which the peasant transfers the beating to the sentinel and the Jew,
is similarly related of Tamerlane's fool Nasureddin (Flogel's Ge-
schichte der Eofnarren, p. 178), and likewise of the Pfaffe von Kalen-
herg, see the preface to Hagen's Narrenhuch, pp. 272-277, and in
Flogel, p. 255. lb is also told in Sacchetti's 195th story of a
countryman who brings back to a King of France his lost
hawk. Bertoldo amplifies something of the same kind. The
peasant" in his story is to have a beating, but he entreats that the
head shall be spared. He therefore does not receive the beating,
but those who follow him, for he is the head or leader. Bertoldino
also appeases the frogs by throwing gold pieces at them. See Hagen's
preface to Morolf, pp. 18, 19.

8. — The Wondrous Musician.

From Lorsch near Worms. It seems as if the story were not
quite perfect ; a reason ought to be given why the musician, who,
like Orpheus, can entice animals to follow him, treats them so
deceitfully. There is a similar story in Transylvania, as Haltrich
remarks (No. 50).

9. — The Twelve Brothers.

From Zwehrn, but there the incident of the maiden noticing
the twelve children's shirts and inquiring about her brothers,
is wanting. We fi.nd it in another, otherwise meagre story, like-
wise from Hesse. There is a similar incident in The Six
Swans (No. 49), from German Bohemia. In Wigalois a red
standard denotes a combat for life and death (6153). Compare in the
Pentamerone, The Seven Doves (iv. 8). In Norwegian, Asbjornsen,
p. 209. Also the Lithuanian story in the report of the meetings
ot the Viennese Academic der Wissenschaften, xi. 209-212.

10. — The Ragamuffins.

From Paderborn. It resembles Herr Korhes (No. 41) and the
Town Musicians of Bremen (No. 27). In Pomerania it is united
with the story of The Cat and the Mouse in Firmenich's Deutsche
Mundarten, 91, 92.

352 grimm's household tales.

11. — The Little Brother and Sister.

From two stories from the Maine district which complete each
other ; in one of them the incident is wanting of the little stag
springing into the midst of the chase, and enticing the King by its
beauty. According to another version which H. K. von Schroter
has communicated to us, the little brother is changed by the step-
mother into a fawn, and is hunted by her hounds. It stands by
the river, and calls across to the little sister's window,

" Ah, little sister, save me !
The dogs of the lord they chase me;
They chase me, oh ! so quickly ;
They seek, they seek to rend me.
They wish to drive me to the arrows,
And thus to rob me of my life."

But the little sister had already been thrown out of the window
by the stepmother and changed into a duck, and from the water a
voice came to him, saying,

** Patience, dear brother mine,
I lie in the lowest depths.
The earth is the bed I sleep on.
The water it is my coverlid,
Patience, dear brother mine,
I lie in the lowest depths."

Afterwards when the little sister goes into the kitchen to the
cook, and makes herself known to him, she asks

" What do my maids do, do they still spin ?
What does my bell do, does it still ring?
What does my little son, does he still smile?"

He replies,

" Thy maids they spin no more,
Thy bell it rings no more,
Thy little son, he weeps right sore."

Here, as in the story of The Three Little Men in the Forest
(No. 13), the mother comes out of her grave to suckle and attend
to her child, so likewise in the old Danish Volkslied (Danske viser^
1. 206-208. Altcl Blatter, 1. 186.) The Swedish story, which is other-
wise identical, lacks this feature. (See further on.) Melusina, after
her disappearance, comes to her little sons Dietrich and Eaimund,
warms them at the fire, and suckles them ; the nurses watch her,
but dare not speak ( Volkshuch), The Servian sonij; of the w^alled-
up mother who hushes her child, may be compared with this, and

NOTES. — TALES 12, 13. 353

also a story in Le Foyer Breton, of Souvestre, pp. 3, 4, where a
mother comes from her grave at night to take care of her children,
which are neo;lected by their stepmother. Although again very
different, La hiclie au hois, D'Aulnoy, No. 18, has some affinity to
this.

12. — Kapunzel,

Fr. Schulz tells this story in his Kleine Romanen (Leipzig, 1790),
5, 269-88, only too diffusely, though undoubtedly from oral tradi-
tion. It begins in the following manner : A witch has a young
girl with her, to whom she entrusts all her keys, but forbids her to
enter one room, "When, however, impelled by curiosity, she does
enter it, she sees the witch sitting in it with two great horns. The
girl is now placed, as a punishment, in a high tower which htis no
door. When the witch brings her food, the girl has to let down
from the window her hair, which is twenty yards in length,
and by this, the witch ascends. In these stories it frequently
occurs that the father, or more usually the mother, in order to
gratify a momentary desire, pledges away her coming child. It is
often asked for and given, in veiled or mysterious terms ; for
instance, the mother is to give what she carries beneath her girdle.
In the old Norse Al/skongssage a similar incident is to be
found, (chap. i). Othin grants Signy's wish that she may brew
the best beer, in return for which she promises him what is
between her and the beer-barrel, namely, the child which she is
about to bear. Compare the Sagahihliothek of P. E. Miiller, ii.
449. In the Danish Volkeslieder, for instance, that of the Wilder
Nachtrahen, there are promises of the same kind, Salebad,
Firdusi (Schack, p. 191) mounts up by the braids of the maiden's
hair which she lets down. In Biisching's Volkssagen, p. 287, a
story begins with some incidents in common with ours. In the
Fentamerone it is Petrosinella, ii. 1.

13. — The Three Little Men in the Wood.

From two tales, both from Hesse, which complete each
other. In the one from Zwehrn, the beginning with the
boot being used as a test is wanting. The name of Haule-
mannerchen by which, in Lower Hesse, the little folks who dwell
in caves in the forest (Waldhohlen), and steal away people's
unchristened children, are known; comes from Hohlen-Wald-
mannlein. In Denmark the common people call them by the very
similar name Hyldemand (Thorlacius, spec. 7. 161). The curse
on the wicked daughter, that a toad shall spring out of her mouth
with each word that she utters, appears in a third story, which we
likewise heard in Hesse, and for that reason have inserted. There

VOL. I. 2 a

354 grimm's household tales.

is a story with some affinity to this from Austria, Beward and
Fu7iishment, which is allied to Frau Holle (No. 24), and is to be
found in Ziska, p. 47, and another in Prohle's Marchen fur die
Jugend No. 5. Compare Perrault's Les Fees No. 1, and in the Pen-
tamerone (3. lOj, The three Fairies.

The punishment of being rolled in a barrel stuck full of nails is
an old custom. According to the Dutch Chronicle, Gerhard van
Velzen, because he had murdered Count Florens, V. of Holland
(1296), was rolled in a barrel of the like kind for the space of three
days. The old song says,

*' zy deden een vat vol spykers slaan,
daar most zyn edeldom in glyden;
zy roldeu hem daar drie dagea lank,
drie dagen voor den noene." *

When he was taken out of it, and asked how he felt, he
answered,

" ik ben noch dezelve man,
die Graaf Floris zyn leven nam.*f

See Casp. Commelin's, Beschryving van Amsterdam^ i. 86-88.
This punishment occurs in a Swedish, and also in a Danish
Volkslied (Geyer and Afze ius, 1, No. 3, and Danske viser,
No. 165).

14. — The Three Spinkees.

From a story from the Principality of Corvei, but it is from
Hesse that we have the version with the three women, all of whom
are afflicted with some peculiar defect caused by spinning. In
the former there are only two extremely aged women, who have
become so broad from sitting that they can hardly get into the
room. They have thick lips from wetting and licking the thread ;
and from drawing and pulling it they have ugly fingers, and broad
thumbs. The story from Hesse begins differently ; for instance,
that there was a King who liked nothing so much as spinning, and
for that reason, on taking leave before going a journey, he left behind
him for his daughters, a great chest full of flax which was to be spun
by his return. In order to release them from this, the Queen
invited these three misshapen women, and on the King's arrival
set them before his eyes. Pratorius, in the Oluckstopf, pp. 404-

* A tun they hammered full of spikes,

Therein must his worship creep,

They rolled him there for three days long.

Three days befoi'e noontide,
f I am still the self-same man

Who took the life of Count Floris.

NOTES. — TALE 15. 355

406, relates the story in the followiug way : a mother cannot induce
her daughter to spin, and for this reason often beats her. A man
who on one occasion sees this, asks what is the meaning of it. The
mother answers, " I cannot keep her from spinning ; she spins away
more flax than I can procure." The man says, '' Then give her to
me to wife ; I shall be quite satisj&ed with her indefatigable industry,
even if she bring me nothing else." The mother is heartily
delighted, and the man at once gives his betrothed a great
provision of flax. At this she is secretly terrified, but she takes it
and puts it in her room, and considers what she is to do. Then
three women come in front of her window, one so broad with
sitting that she cannot get through the door of the room, the second
has an enormous nose, the third a broad thumb. They offer their
services to her, and promise the bride to spin what has been given
to her if, on her wedding-day, she will not be ashamed of them, but
will declare that they are her aunts, and place them at her table.
She agrees to this, and they spin the flax, for which the bride-
groom praises the bride. So when the wedding-day comes, the
three horrible women appear also, and the bride pays them great
honour, and says they are her aunts. The bridegroom is astonished,
and asks how she comes by such repulsive relatives. "Ah," says
the bride, " they have all been made like that by spinning. One
of them is so broad with sitting, the other has quite licked away her
mouth, and that makes her nose stand out so, and the third has
twisted the thread so much with her thumb." Thereupon the
bridegroom is much troubled, and tells the bride that she shall not
spin another thread so long as she lives that she may not become
a monster like them.

A third story from Upper Lusatia, by Th. Pesheck, is in Biisching's
WochentUche Nachrichten i. 355-360 ; on the whole it corresponds
with that of Pratorius. One of the three old women has blear-eyes
because the flue of the flax has gone into them, the second has a
great mouth reaching from ear to ear from wetting her thread, the
third is fat and unshapely with sitting so much at the spinning-
wheel. A portion of the story is to be found in Miillenhoff, No 8.
In Norwegian, see Asbjornsen, p. 69. In Swedish, Cavallius,
p. 214. The beginning of Ricdin-Bicdon, by Mile. I'Heritier, re-
sembles it, and Le sette cotenelle, in the Fentameroney bears some
affinity (iv. 4).*

15. — Haensel and Gretel.

From different stories current in Hesse. In Swabia it is a wolf
which is in the sugar-house. See in Caroline Stahl's Stories, p. 92.

* See also Schleicher's Lithtianian Tales, and the story of Habetrot and
atlie Mahy in Henderson's Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties. — Tr.

2 A 2

356 grimm's household tales.

The house of sweetmeats (see further on). Also Prohle's Kinder- und
Volksmdrchen^^oA^O. Bech stein, vii. 55. The Eierkuchenhauschen^
in St ober's eZsass. Volkshurh, -p. 102. In Da,n\sh. the Pandekagehuset
(see further on). In Swedish, Cavallius, pp. 14, 26. In Hungarian,
Stier, ]). 43. In Albanian, Hahn, 164, 165. In Servian, Wuk,,No 35.
The story of Der Fanggen, from the Oberinnthal in Zingerle's Kinder
und Hausmdrchen, p. 51. Oberlin gives a piece, in the dialect of
the district of Ltineville, in his Essai sur le patois. Clearly allied
too, especially in the beginning, is Nennillo and Nennilla in the Pen'
tamerone (5-8), and so is the first part of Finette Cendron^ in
D'Aulnoy, No. 11. In this there are three King's children who
are twice brought home by the cleverness of the youngest ; the
first time by a thread which had been given to her by a fairy, the
second by strewn ashes ; the third time, the two elder provide an
expedient and scatter peas, but the pigeons eat them, and the
children cannot find the way back. In a Tyrolese story, Zingerle,
p. 138, as here, the boy who is imprisoned reaches out a bit of
stick to the man-eater, instead of his finger; but in a Swedish
story his captor is a giant (Cavallius, 31). Hansel is connected with
Tharahling (No, 37 and 45), and thus appears in the German stories.
There are six children ; he is the seventh. When they are in
the forest with the man-eater, they have to comb his hair, but
Thumbling springs in among it, pulls it, and always comes back
again. Afterwards there is the changimi the seven crowns during the
night f )r the seven red caps. Thumbling puts all the purses of
money and valuables into the seven-league boots. To this group
also belongs a Tyrolese story in Zingerle, p. 235, of the 'ihumb-
ling Hansel. The old German fable {AUd. Wdlder iii. 178, 179)
of the twelve who go to the giant (Turse), and who are previously
warned by his wife, and told to go into the bedroom, is only
altered so lar as concerns the moral.

16. — The three Snake-leaves.

From two stories which only differ from each other in trifling
matters, the one from Hof am Habichtswald, a village in Lowei
Hesse, the other from a village near Paderborn. A Greek saga maybe
traced in it. Poly id us is to restore life to Glaukos, but is unable.
The enraged father therefore has him shut up in the tomb with
the corpse. Polyidus sees a snake creeping up to the dead body,
and kills it. Soon afterwards a second snake comes carrying a
herb in its mouth, w^hich it lays on the dead one, by means of which
it at once comes to life again. Polyidus quickly snatches the
herb, lays it on Glaukos, and he returns to life. See ApoUodorus,
iii. 3, 1. Compare with this a Hungarian story, in Stier, p. 107, and
also a poem by Marie de France Lai d'Eliduc (1. 401), where the part
of the snakes is played by two weasels (474).

NOTES. — TALES 17, 18. 357

The woman's desire that the survivor shall allow himself to be
buried with her, recalls the Norse saga of Asmund and Aswit,
who, when they adopted each other as brothers, exchanged a
similar promise. Asmund afterwards caused himself to be taken
into the barrow with the dead Aswit, but took with him a store of
provisions which was sufficient to support him for a time ; he was
afterwards drawn up by a lucky accident (Suhm's Fabelzeit, ii.
178). A similar custom between man and wife is found in Sindbad'o
voyages (1001 Nights, ii. 137). The unfaithfulness of the woman
after coming to life again, seems originally only to have been
intended to express that she had begun a new lite and forgotten the
old one.

[It is however commonly believed among the dwellers in the
North of Scotland that if you save a man's life he will repay you
by doing you some great injury. Sir Walter Scott, as usual,
seized on this superstition and used it in one of his stories.
Mordaunt is trying to save Cleveland, and Bryce remonstrates
with him thus, " Are you mad ? " said he, " You that have
lived so long in Zetland to risk the saving of a drowning man ?
Wot ye not, if ye bring him to life again, he will be sure to do you
some capital injury ? " Pirate^ vol. i. chap. 7. — Tr.]

17. — The White Snake.

From Hanau. The story of the Queen of the Bees (No. 62; has
some similarity to this. So has another in the Ammenmdrchen
of Yulpius; see also Soldat Lorenz, No. 7, in Prohle's Kinder'
mdrchen. By eating a white snake, one learns to understand
the speech of animals, as in the Saga of the Seeburg
(Beutsche Sagen, i. 131). The same result is produced by eating
the heart of a dragon or of a bird. See Donkey Cabbages, No. 122.
According to a Scotch saga, the middle piece of a white snake
roasted by the fire gives a knowledj;e of supernatural things
to any one who shall put his finger into the fat which drops from
it. See Grant Stewart, pp. 82, 83. Compare with this The Magic
Horse, in Straparola, iii. 2.

18. — The Straw, the Coal, and the Bean.

From Cassel, the best and earliest version is to be found in Burkard
Waldis, Book 3, Fab. 97 (1542). The Nugoe venales (1648,
s. 1. 12mo.) contain also Crepundia -poetica, and pp. 32, 33, an
abridgement of our story.

**Pruna, faba et stramen rivum transire laborant,
Seque ideo in ripis stramen utrimque locat.
Sic qiiasi per pontem faba transit, pruna sed urit,

Stramen et in medias praecipitatur aquas.
Hoc cernens nimio risu faba rumpitur ima

Parte sui : hancque quasi tacta pudore tegit."

358 grimm's household tales.

In a Latin poem of tlie Middle Ages (MS. Strasburc^), the fable
of the mouse and the coal travelling occurs with the variation
that both make a pilgrimage to church to confess their sins, and,
in crossing a little brook, the coal falls in, hisses, and is extinguished.
The cat and mouse travel, the straw breaks, and the cat falls into the
water, at which the mouse laughs so that she bursts. See Stober's
elsass : Volkshuch, 95. In a Wendish story, see Haupt and Schraaler,
p. 160, a coal, a pair of bellows, and a straw, travel together.
Compare Ntue Preuss, ProvinzialbldUer, i. 226. In Transyl-
vania a duck, a frog, a mill-stone and a red-hot coal travel
together, and the two last are drowned. (Haltrich, No 46). The
^Esopian fable of the thorn-bush, the diver, and the bat {Furiaj
124, Coray 42) ought to be mentioned.

19. — The Fisherman and his Wife.

This story has been excellently well taken down by Runge of
Hamburg, in the Pomeranian dialect, and it was kindly communi-
cated to us by Arnim, as early as in the year 1809. It was after-
wards printed in Kunge's works also. It is often told in Hesse,
but imperfectly aod with variations. It is called Tlie History of little
Husband Domine (sometimes also of Hans Dudeldee), and littU
Wife Dinderlinde (Dinderl, Dime ?) Domine complains of his ill
luck and goes out to the sea. There a little fish stretches forth its
head and says,

"What aileth thee, little man Domine?"
" 'Tis hard in a pig-stye to pass my life."
" Then wish thee a wish, little man Domine.'*
" Nay, first must I home to ask my wife."

He goes home to his wife and asks what he is to wish for.
" Wish for a better house for us," says Dinderlinde. He goes to
the sea and cries,

" Little fish, little fish in the sea ! "
" What wilt thou, little man Domine ? "

And now the wishes begin : first a house, then a garden, then
oxen and cows, then lands and kingdoms, and so on to all the treasures
of the world. When they have wished for everything they can
wish for, the man, says, " Now I should like to be God, and my
wife to be the mother of God." Then the little fish stretches out
its head again and cries,

" Wilt thou be the Lord on high ?
Then back with thee to thy pig-stye."

In Justus Kerner's Poetical Almanack for 1812, pp. 50-54, the story
is told in a similar way, apparently from a South German version,
but the doggrel rhymes are wanting. The fisherman is called

NOTES. — TALE 20. 359

Hans Entender. In Albert Ludwig Grimm's Kindermcirchen (2nd
edit. Heidelbero;, 1817) it appears also, but in prose. The fisher-
man Hans Dudeldee lives with his wife in a hut, and is so poor
that they have no window, but are forced to look through a hole,
where there has been a knot in the wood. He first begs the fish
to give him a house, and so on until he is emperor ; at last he
desires to be able to make sunshine and rain as God does, where-
upon they find themselves sitting in the hut again, looking through
the hole in the planks. It is much more meagre as a whole. See
De Kossdt und siine Fruu, in Kuhn, No 6, The Golden Fish
in Firminich's Volkerstimmen, p. 377.

The beginning of the story strikingly reminds us of a story
in the 1001 Nights (1. 107, Eisloire du Pecheur)^ as well as of the
Welsh saga of Tcdiesin (compare Altd. Wdlder, 1. 70). A story
from Finland also, given in the Freimuthiger, 1834, No. 253-256,
has a similar opening, but the development is different. The
feature of the wife inciting her husband to seek high dignities is
ancient in itself, from Eve and the Etruscan Tanaquil (^Livy, i. 47),
down to Lady Macbeth.

20. — Thb Valiant Little Tailoe.

The first half is taken from two stories from Hesse, which complete
each other. The second from the place where the Tailor leaves the
giants, and betakes himself to the King's court, is from a somewhat
rare little book, Wegkilrzer, a very amusing and unusually diverting
little book by Martinus Montanus of Strasburg (1557, in 12mo.
p. 18-25). This part can stand alone, but as it fits naturally to what
has gone before, it is here joined to it, and therefore re-written. In
the first edition may be seen the unaltered copy. Allusion is made
to the story by Fischart, in Oargantua (254*"), " I will kill you
like the midges, nine at one blow, as the tailor did," and in
Flohhatz (Dornavius), 39**.

*' Horst nicht vom tapfern Schneiderknecht,*
Der drei in einem Streich zu todt schlecht."

Also in Simplicissimus (chap. ii. 28), " and has surpassed the
tailor's title, ' seven at one blow.'" And in Fahelhans (16, 3) " five
at one blow." The number naturally changes; we likewise hear
of " nine-and-twenty at one blow." If the giant here squeezes
water out of a stone, it perhaps has some reference to a passage in
Bruder Wernher (M.S. 2. 164^) :

* Hast thou not heard of the bold tailor's apprentice who killed three
at one blow ?

360 grimm's household tales.

" und weiz doch wol e ich ein argen zagen *
getwunge iif milten muot,

daz ich mit riemen liehter twunge einen stein,
daz man in an der ader lieze bluot."

And a passage in Freiberg's Tristan alludes to the tailor's cunning
when he takes a clieese instead of a stone,

5190. " und nam den kaese in sine hant,f
der wiiletore Tristrant
grief so grimmeclich dar in
daz im durch die vinger sin
ran daz kaesewazzer."

A part of this story is from a Lower Austrian story in Ziska,
p. 9. The little tailor begins his journey, and enters the service of
the giant, whom in the distance he had taken for a mountain.
"What wages am I to have?" he asks. "Three hundred and
sixty-five days every year, and, when it is leap-year, one day more,'*
answers the giant, " does that satisfy thee ? " " Yes, all right,
one must cut one's coat according to one's cloth." The giant orders
him to fetch a pitcher of water. " What ! a jug of water ! why
not bring the well itself, and the spring too ; " says the boastful
little tailor. " What ! " growls the giant "the fellow can do more
than roast apples ! — he has a mandrake in his body," After this he
tells the tailor to cut some logs of wood in the forest, and to bring
them home. " Hey day, and why not bring the whole forest ? "
When he has brought the wood, the giant desires him to shoot a
couple of wild boars. " And why not rather shoot a thousand of
them at once with one shot, and thyself as well ? " " What," says
the giant in a fright, " that is enough for to-day ; go to bed and
sleep." The next morning the giant goes with the tailor to a
marsh which is thickly overgrown with willows. " Now my man,
seat thyself on a branch like this, and let me see if thy weight will
bend it down." The tailor seats himself, holds his breath, and
makes himself heavy in order to bend the branch ; but as he is
obliged to breathe again, and as he unfortunately has not got his
goose with him, to the giant's delight it springs up with him so high
in the air that he is never seen again. The story is spread over the
whole of Germany. It is found in the Buchlein fur die Jugend^
p. 171-180 In Kuhn, No. 11. In Stober's ehass : Volksbuchy
p. 109 ; in Bechstein, p. 5 ; in Ernst Meyer, No. 37 ; Vonbun,

* And know that rather than vent my fierce anger on a person of
generous temper, I would crush a stone with my girdle, so that (one)
could draw blood from its veins.

+ And the willing fool Tristran took the cheese in his hands and pressed
it so fiercely, that the whey ran through his fingers.

NOTES. — TALE 20. 361

p. 9 ; Zingerle, p. 12 ; Prohle's Kindermdrchen, No. 47 ; ia
Swedish in Cavallius, pp. 1-8; in Norwegian in Asbjornsen, p. 40;
in Danish in Etlar, p. 29, in the tale of a valiant young shoe-
maker's apprentice. Nyerup describes the rhymed treatment of this
version in his work on the Danish Volksbiicher (Ahnindelig Morsk'
ahsldsning i Dannimark og Norge. Kiobenhavn, 1816), pp. 241,
242. The hero strikes fifteen flies dead at one blow with his garter,
the renown of which great deed is so spread abroad, that a prince
takes him into his service, that he may deliver his country from a
wild boar. The animal devours a fruit which causes sleep, and
is easily killed by the shoemaker. He then overcomes the unicorn,
and lastly a bear, which he shuts up in a brickmaker's oven. There
is likewise the following characteristic story in Dutch, from a
book on folk-lore published in Amsterdam. Van Kleyn
Kobisj'e, alias Koningh sonder Onderzaten, p. 7. 14. (King
without subjects). It is to be found also as a supplement,
in an almost identical form in another Dutch book on folk-lore ;
Clement Marot, pp. 132-133, under the title of Hans Onversagt.
" Little Kobisje was sitting by his cutting-board peeling an apple,
and left the parings lying on it. He made a fly-killer, and when the
flies settled on the apple-parings to eat them ; he killed seven at one
stroke. He leapt up from the table, imagining that he had performed
a valiant deed, and had thus become a great man ; sold all he had,
and caused a pretty shield to be made for himself on which he had
inscribed, " My name is young Kobis the dauntless, I slew seven
at one stroke." Then he went to a far-off country where a King
ruled ; placed his shield on his breast, went behind the King's
palace, and lay down on a high hill, where he knew he was accus-
tomed to pass.

At length the sun began to shine brightly, and the King could
not imagine what it was that was glittering so, and immediately
sent a nobleman thither. When the nobleman came up, he was
alarmed when he read, " My name is young Kobis, the Dauntless ;
I slew seven at one blow." He went back and told the King what
he had seen, who instantly sent two or three companies of soldiers
thither with the nobleman, to give him courage, and conduct
the stranger to court with the respect and honour due to such a
knight. They went thither as the King had ordered, and
approached and examined him, but none of them would be the
first to speak to him. At last one of the crowd was bold
enough to take a spear and touch the sole of his shoe with it.
Up he sprang with great vigour, and they fell on their knees,
and entreated him to be pleased to go to the King, which he
did. When he came to the King, he was treated with great respect.
Meanwhile he was informed that he might become the King's son-
in-law, but that there were three difficult things which he must

362 grimm's household tales.

first do for him. In the first place there was a wild boar which did
a great deal of mischief, and no one could capture it. Secondly,
there were three giants, who had made the King's forest so dangerous
that any one who traversed it was a dead man. Thirdly, several
thousand foreigners had invaded the land, and the realm appeared
to be in great peril. He accepted these conditions, and they told
him the way to the place where the wild boar lurked. Full of
courage he left the court. He was, however, so terrified when he
heardthe wild boar that he wished himself back again by his cutting-
board. The wild boar came rushing on him with such fury that he
looked for a safe place to escape to, espied a ruined chapel, and took
refuge in it. The wild boar followed him, but with all speed he
sprang through the window over the wall, and shut the door of the
chapel. No sooner was the wild boar secured, than Kobisje went
to the King, who said to him, " How didst thou catch the wild
boar ? " The other replied, " I seized it with great force by its bristles
and flung it into the chapel, but I would not kill it, for I wanted
to present it to you." Then there were great rejoicings at court,
and he went in search of the giants, and had the good fortune to find
them asleep. He took his bag and filled it with stones, climbed up
a high tree, and threw a stone at one of them, who thought one of
the others had done it, and began to scold, and tell him to leave
off throwing stones, or he would box his ears soundly. He threw
stones at the second, who likewise began to swear. The third was
treated in the same way. He got up, drew his sword, flew at the
other, and stabbed him and he fell down on the ground. Then he
attacked the other and after a long struggle both fell to the earth
exhausted. Kobisje seized the opportunity, came down and took
the sword of the dead one and stabbed the two others, cut off their
heads, and went back to court again. The King asked him if he had
performed the task ? He answered, " Yes." On this the King
enquired how he had done it. He answered thus, " I took one
giant by his legs and belaboured the other with him till he dropped
down dead, and I paid off the other in the same coin. And as the
one I was holding by the legs was half dead, I struck him with
such force against a tree that it flew up six feet high into the air."
Again there was great joy at court, and he was held to be the
greatest man there. Then he once more made ready, and the
nobles of the court with him, and he had an army of brave men of
whom he was the general. Having taken leave, he began his third
task. He bade the troops march onwards, and followed on horse-
back. But as he had never ridden on horseback he had great
difficulty in keeping his seat. When they had arrived at the place
where the enemy was, he ordered his troops to draw up in order of
battle, and was soon told that all was ready. He did not know how
to turn his horse round, drew the wrong side of the bridle, spurred his

NOTES. — TALE 20. 863

horse, and it went off with him full gallop towards the enemy. As he
could not hold the bridle fast, he clutched at a wooden cross by the
wayside, which broke off and he held it tightly in his arms. "When
the enemy perceived him, they thought that he was the Devil, and
began to fly, and those who could not escape were drowned. The
others unloosed their ships from their moorings and sailed away.
After this victory, he returned to his noblemen, and the whole army,
and told them of his conquest, and how he had completely routed the
enemy. He went to the King, and informed him of the victory, and
the King thanked him. Moreover he had him proclaimed his suc-
cessor to the throne. The wedding-day was fixed, and great prepara-
tions were made for it. When the wedding had taken place, he was
held in high esteem, and always placed next the King. It hap-
pened however that nearly every night Kobisje dreamt that he was
sitting by his cutting-board once more, and his mind was always
filled with this or that thought about his work, and he cried aloud,
" Courage, courage, bestir yourselves, in six or seven hours you will
leave oft' work," for he was fancying that he was giving his
apprentices something to cut or sew. The princess was alarmed,
for she thought that he must be possessed by the Devil, as he was
always babbling, " Courage ! courage ! " She accused her father of
having given her to a book-binder, and not a great lord. The
father resolved to place a company of soldiers by his bed-side who
were to take him prisoner or kill him if they heard him say
this. He however, was warned, and when he was in bed he thus
exclaimed, "I have overcome a wild boar, I have killed three
giants; I have slain an army of a hundred thousand men, and
shall I be afraid of two or three companies of soldiers to-night ? "
and he jumped out of bed and went fiercely towards them. On
hearing him, they fell head over heels from the top of the stairs to
the bottom. Those who lay dead, or had lost legs and arms, were
very numerous, and those who ran away, took such news to the
King, that he said, " My daughter ought to be wiser than to affront
such a great knight ! " Soon after this, the King became ill and
died, leaving the throne to Kobisje, which he accepted, and ruled
over the kingdom in peace. The English story of Jack the Giant
KiUer is aUied (Tahart Collection, 3. 1-37); and No. 17inMiillen-
hoff. Also some incidents in a Tyrolese story, Zingerle, p, 108. The
Persian story, Amint the ivise (Kletke's Mdrchensaal, 3. 54) likewise
belongs .to this group. It is even known among Laplanders (see
'Nihson^ Ureitiiuohner des skand: Nordens (Stockh. 1843), p. 31. la
a Kussian ballad in Wladimifs Tafelrunde (see further on), Tugarin
performs in earnest what the little tailor only pretends to do, and
throws a stone so far that it never comes back at all. The saga of
the conquered wild-boar is also to be found in the Buch von den
sieben weisen Meistern, p. 36, 37.

364 Grimm's household tales.

[A very good story, The Giant and his Boy, whicli is told in
Eae's Wliite Sea Peninsula, ought to be given here. " A boy once
served a giant who, wanting to try his strength, took him into the
forest. The giant proposed that they should strike their heads
against the fir-trees. The boy anticipating this, had made a hole in.
a tree and covered it with bark. They both ran, the boy burying
his head in the tree while the giant only split the bark. * Well,*
said the giant, * now I have found a boy who is strong.'

" Then the giant wished to try who could shout the loudest. The
giant roared till the mountains trembled, and great rocks tumbled
down. The boy cut a branch from a tree, saying he would bind it
round the giant's head for fear it should burst when he shouted.
The giant prayed him not to shout, and said they would try instead
who could throw the farthest. He produced a great hammer which
he threw so high in the air, that it appeared no larger than a fly.
The boy said he was considering which sky to throw the hammer
into, and the giant, fearing to lose his hammer, asked the boy not
to throw at all.

" In the evening the giant asked him when he slept the soundest,
and he answered, at midnight. At midnight the giant came and
aimed heavy blows at the bed. In the morning when the boy, in
reply to the giant's enquiries, said he had felt some chips falling on
his face during the night, the giant thought he had better send him
away. This he did, giving him as much money as he could carry.'*
— Tr.]

21. — Cinderella.

From three stories current in Hesse. One of them from Zwehrn is
without the introduction, where the dying mother promises her
help to her child, but begins at once with the unhappy life of the
step-child — the end also is different. After Cinderella has lived
happily with the King for one year, he travels away and leaves all
his keys with her, with the order not to open a certain room.
"When he is gone however, she is persuaded by the false sister to
open the forbidden room, wherein they find a well of blood. Into
this the wicked sister afterwards throws her, when she is lying ill
after the birth of a son. The sister lies down in the bed in her
place, but the sentries hear the cry of lamentation, and save the
real Queen and the false one is punished. This termination re-
sembles that in the story of Tlie little Brother and Sister (No. 11).
A fourth from Mecklenburg has an ending which reminds us of the
well-known saga of St. Genoveva. Aschenputtel has become
Queen, and has taken her step-mother, who is a witch, and her
wicked step-sister to live with her. When she gives birth to a son
these two lay a dog beside her, and give the child to a gardener who
is to kill it ; and they do the same thing a second time, but the King

NOTES. — TALE 21. 365

loves her so much that he again says nothing about it. The third time
they give the Queen and the child to the gardener who is to kill
them, but he takes them into a cave in the forest. As the Queen from
grief has no milk, she puts the child to a hind which is in the cave.
The child grows, but he becomes wild, and has long hair, and seeks
herbs in the forest for his mother. One day he goes to the palace
and tells the King about his beautiful mother.* Being asked,
"Where is thy beautiful mother, then ? " he answers, " In a cave in
the forest." " Then I will go there." " Yes, but take a mantle with
thee, so that she may be able to dress herself." The King goes there,
recognizes her though she is wasted away, and takes her home with
him. On the way, two boys with golden hair meet him. " To whom
do ye belong ? " he asks. " To the gardener." The gardener comes
and reveals that they are the King's children whom he had not
killed but brought up in his house. The truth comes to light, and
the witch and her daughter are i)unished. A fifth story from the
Paderborn district begins thus : A beautiful Countess had a rose in
one hand and a snowball in the other, and wished for a child as red
as the rose, and as white as the snow. God grants her wish. Once,
when she is standing by the window looking out, she is pushed out
of it by the nurse. The godless woman, however, screams loudly,
and pretends that the Countess has thrown herself out. Then she
ensnares the Count by her beauty, and he marries her. She bears
him two daughters, and the beautiful red and white step-child has
to serve as scullion. She is not allowed to go to church because
she has no clothes ; then she weeps on her mother's grave, and her
mother gives her a key, and bids her open a hollow tree ; it opens
like a wardrobe ; and she finds in it clothes, soap with which to wash
herself, and a prayer-book. A Count sees her, and in order to catch
her, smears the threshold of the church with pitch. After this
all developes itself as in the other stories. A sixth from the neigh-
bourhood of Zittau is given in Busching's WochentUche Naclirichten,
1. 139. Aschenputtel is a miller's daughter, and is likewise not
allowed to go to church. There is nothing new in it, except that
instead of a dove, a dog betrays the false bride, and barks,

And to the true one

" Wu, wu, wu.
Full of blood is the shoe ! '*

" Wu, wu, wu,
How well fits the shoe!"

A seventh is found in Hageu's Erzdhlungen und Mdrcheiif ii. 339*
The rhymes run thus,

♦ See " Valentine and Orson," — Tb.

366 gkimm's household tales.

" Help to put them in the pot
But not into thy crop."

"Open thee, open thee, willow-tree,
And give thy silken clothes to me.**
The dog barks,

*' Hau, hau, hau, hau, hau,
My lord has not got the right wife.

There is an eighth in Colshorn, No. 44. A ninth in Meier,
No. 4.

This story is one of the best known, and is told in all parts.*
Murner says, " es soil ein gouch sein wib regieren lassen iind
meister sin. Nit dass du si alwegen fiir ein Fusstuch woltest
halten, denn si ist dem man uss der siten genummen und nit nss
den Fiissen, dass si soil ein aschengriddel sin." Geuchmat
Strassb. 1519 (first 1515), 4 folio e\

In Low Grerman we find Askenpiister, Askenboel, and Askenbiiel
(Bremer Worterh. i. 29, 30). In Holstein, according to Rchiitze, As-
chenposelken is derived from poseln, to seek laboriously (as, for
instance, the peas among the ashes). Sudelsodelken, from solen,
suHeln, because it must be destroyed in the dirt.

In Pomerania, Aschpuk, signifies a dirty kitchen-maid (Dahnert).
The Hessian dialect corroborates this (see Estor's IJ^jper Hessian
Dictionary) : " Aschenpuddel, an insignificant, dirty girl," What
is more the High German is Aschenbrodel (Deutsches Worterhuch^
581, and Ascherling. In Swabia we find Aschengrittel, Aschengruttel,
Aeschengrusel. (Schmid's, /S'c7i^<;a&. Worterh. 2^. DeutschesWorter-
huch i. 582). In Danish and Swedish it is Askesis, from blowing
the ashes (at fise i Asken). In Jamieson, see Asisiepet, Ashy pet,
Ashiepattle, a neglected child employed in the lowest kitchen
work.f In Polish Kopciuszek, from Kopec, soot, smoke.

There was also a story in which Aschenprodel was a boy despised
bv his proud brothers ; a similar incident occurs in the story of The
Man with the iron hand J (No. 136) and in Aschentagger, see Zingerle,
p. 395. Eollenhagen mentions it in the preface to I'roschmeuseler, as
the wonderful domestic tale " of the despised and pious Aschen-
posse] and his proud and scornful brethren."

Oberlin also gives one passage from Aschenprodel, in which a

* A foolish man shall let his wife rule and be master. Not that thou
wouldst altogether look on her as a door-mat, for she was taken out of
the side of man, and not out of his feet, to be an aschengriddel.

t Jamieson observes that Ashiepattle is used in this sense in Shetland,
and is perhaps derived from Isi askas patti, a little child employed in the
lowest kitchen-work. — Tr.

J Qu. Der Eisenhans. — Tr.

NOTES. — TALE 21. 867

servant bears this name ; and Geiler von Keisersberg calls a despised
kitchen-boy an Eschengriidel and says, " how an Eschengriidel has
everything to do," Brosamen, folio 79 a., compare the seventh stave
of the fifteen verses. Tauler, in the Medulla animce, says, " I thy
stable-boy, and poor Aschenbaltz." Luther, in the TaUe-talh, 1. 16,
says " Cain, the godless reprobate, is one of the powerful ones of earth,
but the pious and Godfearing Abel has to be the submissive Aschen-
brodel — nay, even his servant and be oppressed." In Agricola, No.
515, occurs " Does there remain anywhere an Aschenbrodel of whom
no one has thought ? " No. 594, " Jacob the Aschenbrodel, the spoiled
boy." In Eyering, 2. 342, is " poor Aschenwedel." Verelius, in the
notes to the GotJireks Sage, p. 70, speaks of the Volks Saga, " huru
Askesisen sick Konungsdottren til hustru," which also treats of a
youth who was kitchen-boy, and won the king's daughter. The
proverbs also, sitia hema i asku, liggia som katticr i hreise und
liggia vid amen, apply for the most part to King's sons, in the
Wilkinasage,- cap. 91, of Thetleifr, and in the Refssage (cap. 9
of the Oothreks Sage) from which Yerelius wishes to derive all the
others. In Asbjornsen's Norwegian stories an Askepot frequently
occurs. In Finnish he is called Tukhame or Tuhkimo, from tukka,
ashes — vide Schiefner, 617. We are likewise reminded of Ulrich
von Thiirheim's Starker Bennewart, who must also have first been a
scullion ; likewise of Alexius, who lived under the stairs in his
father's royal house like a drudge. Yide Gorres' Meisterlieder^
p. 302.

It was a very ancient custom that those who were unhappy
should seat themselves amongst the ashes, Odysseus, who, as a
stranger entreating help, had spoken with Alkinous, thus seated him-
self humbly down in the ashes on the hearth, and was then brought
farth and set in a high place. 7. 153, 169 ; compare 11. 191.

It is frequently mentioned that pigeons pick all clean. They
are pure, holy creatures, and good spirits. In Meister Sigeher
(MS. 2, 221'') we find,

"dem milten bin ich senfte bi*
mit linden spriichen siiezen,
schone alz ez ein turteletube habe erlesen."

In Geiler von Keisersberg, " thus the pigeons pick up the very
cleanest corn," and therefore when any one has good corn, the
saying is, "It is just as if it had been got together by pigeons."
Brosamen, folio SS**. In Pauli's Schimpf und Ernst (1535),
chap. 315, folio 60% there is a story of a woman who knelt down
quite far back in the church and wept from devotion, and the

* I am softly singing to the generous man, sweet and gentle words
lovelier tkan a turtle-dove could gather together.

868 geimm's household tales.

Lishop saw how a dove came and picked up these tears, and then
flew away. In the incident of Aschenputtel being sought for and
found by means of the lost shoe, we are reminded of the saga of
Rhodope, whose shoe having being carried away by an eagle,
Psammetichus, into whose breast it had fallen, sent over the whole
of Egypt in order to make the owner of it his wife, {^lian, Var,
lib. 13).

Gudrun in her misfortunes has to become an Aschenbrodel ; she
herself although a queen, has to clean the hearth and wipe up the
dust with her hair, or else she is beaten. Compare 3986, 3991,
4021, 4077, 4079.

In the Pentamerone (1. 6) is Cenerentola, in Perrault Cendrillon,
ou la petite pantoufle de verre (No. 6.) In D'Aulnoy, Finette Cendron
(No. 10). In Norwegian, see Asbjornsen, p. 110. In Hungarian, see
the second part of The Tliree Kings' Daughters, in Stier, p. 34, and
following. In Servian, with special and beautiful variations, seeWuk,
No. 32. Schottky expressly says (in Biisching's Wochentl.
Nachrichten, 4. 61) that the Servians have a story of x\schen-
brodel, which is like the German one. The story of Allerleirauh
CNo. 65) is related to this, and so is that of Einduglein, No. 130.

2?.— The Riddle.

From Zwehrn in Lower Hesse. The story of Turandot : she wants
to have her riddle guessed, and seeks what she fears, and what will
destroy her pririe and power. Another story differs in some
respects. A King's son sees a maiden whose beauty so attracts
him that he follows her, and gets into the house of a witch, whose
daughter she is. The maiden herself is well-disposed, and warns
him against her mother's magical and poisonous drinks. He rides
away, but the mother hurries after him, and wants to give him
something to drink. As she cannot get up to him, she gives the
glass to the servant, who is to take it to him, but it flies in
pieces (compare Deutsche Sagen, 2. 319), and the horse, which is
sprinkled with poison, falls down dead. The servant runs to his
master and tells him what has happened, they go back to fetch the
saddle, and a raven is sitting on the horse eating it. The King's son
kills the raven, and they take it with them ; when they enter the inn,
they give it to the innkeeper, who is to roast it. They have however
stumi)led on a den of murderers, and are shut in. By night the
murderers come to take the lives of the strangers, but before doing so,
they eat the raven which was roasted for the prince and his
servant and all die of it ; and now the innkeeper's daughter who
means well by them, goes and opens the doors for the strangers, and
shows them the alDundance of gold and treasure. The King's
son says, she shall keep that as a reward, and rides on farther with

NOTES.— TALES 23, 24 S69

his servants, and comes to the town where the King's daughter is to
guess the riddle. He gives her this riddle to guess, "One struck
none, and yet struck twelve." All the other stories are like this.
One in Lassberg's Liedersaal, 1. 537, should be compared with it.

23. — The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage.

From Philander von Sittewald's Gesichten^ part 2, at the end
of the seventh " "Vision," The story however still survives by
word of mouth, but it is told in many different ways, for instance,
it is related of a mouse and sausage without the little bird.
One has to cook one week, the other the week after. There is a
story from Alsace in Stober's Volksbuchlein^ p. 99. See Gossip
Myself and Gossip Ldverwiirstel, in the Neue Freuss. Frovinzial'
blatter, 1. 226.

24. — Frau Holle.

From Hesse and Westphalia. A third story from the Schwalm
district connects this story with that ot Hansel and Grethel. Two
girls were sitting together by a well, spinning ; one of them was
pretty, the other hideous. The pretty one said, " The one who
lets her distaff fall into the water shall go in after it."

Then her distaff fell down, and she was forctd to go in after it.
When she was below she was however not drowned in the water,
but came out in a meadow wherein stood a little pear-tree, to which
she said, "Shake thyself, stir thyself," and then the little pear-tree
shook and tossed itself about. Then she came to a little calf, and
said, " Moo-calf, stoop down." Then the little calf stooped down.
Then she came to an oven, and said, "Oven, bake me a roll.**
Then the oven baked her a roll.*

At length she came to a little house made of pancakes, and as
she was hungry she ate some of it, and when she had eaten a hole
in it, she looked in and saw a little red woman, who cried, " The
wind, the heavenly child ! come in and comb my hair." Then
she went in and combed the old woman's hair until she fell asleep.
Thereupon the girl went into a room full of things made of gold, and
put on a golden dress, and went away again. When however she
came to the oven again, she said, " Oven, please do not betray
me." " No, I will not betray thee." Then she came to the little
calf, and at last to the little pear-tree, and to each of them she said,
" Betray me not," and each answered, " No, I will not betray thee."
Then she came out of the well again, and day was just dawning,
and the cock cried, " Our golden girl is coming."

* This story is manifestly imperfect, for the help the tree, the cow, and
oven afterwards give the girl is in return for kind services performed
by her for them. — Tr.

VOL. I. 2 B

370 grimm's household tales.

Soon afterwards the dirty ugly girl's distaff also falls into the well,
and she has to go after it. She comes to the pear-tree, the calf,
and the oven. She speaks to them as the pretty one had done,
hut they do not obey her. Then she, too, combs the red old woman's
hair until she has fallen asleep, goes into the room and dresses herself
all in gold, and is about to go home. She entreats the oven, the
calf, and the pear-tree not to betray her, but they answer, " Yes,
indeed, we will betray thee." So when the old woman awakes, she
hastens after the girl, and they say to her, "If thou runnest, thou
wilt yet overtake her." She overtakes the girl and dirties her
golden dress for her. When she comes out of the well again day
is just dawning and the cock cries, " Our dirty girl is coming."
A fourth story from the Paderborn district is most like this,
especially in the sympathy which the things the girl has spoken
to on her way show her afterwards. She has shaken a little tree,
milked a cow which has had its calf stolen from it, and has taken
the bread out of the oven. Then in the house she is forced every
afternoon to pick the lice off a witch, an ape, and a bear, and for
that she receives the most beautiful clothes and a quantity of gold
and silver. When she has got all these things, she says, " I will
go out and fetch some water." She goes and again finds the door
of the well by which she had come down. She opens it and
sees the bucket just being let down. She seats herself in it, and
is drawn up. As she stays away, the witch, the ape, and the bear
send a great black dog after her, which asks eve^-y where if no one
has seen a girl quite covered with silver and gold. But the tree
which she shook points with its leaves to another road, the cow
•which she milked goes another way and nods her head as if she
were showing him the right one, and the oven shoots out its flames
and i3oints in quite a wrong direction. The dog therefore cannot
find the girl. All fares on the contrary very ill with the wicked
girl, when she runs away and comes under the tree which she
refused to shake : it shakes itself, and throws down a great many
dry branches which strike her, the cow she would not milk kicks
her, so that at last she arrives above again, bruised and covered with
blue marks.

A fifth story, also from Hesse, is different. There was once a
woman who had a great affection for her own daughter, and did
not at all love her step-daughter, who was a good and pious girl,
but treated her very cruelly, and tried to get rid of her. One day
she places both of them by a well, and says that they are to spin
there, but adds, " If either of you lets her distaff fall down the
well, I will throw her in after it." Having said this, she fastens
her own daughter's distaff tightly, but her step-daughter's quite
loosely. The latter has only spun a very short time, when her
distaff falls into the well, and the step -mother is hard-hearted

NOTES. — TALE 24. 871

enougli to throw her in after it. She falls deep down, hut comes
into a magnificent garden and to a house in which there is no one.
In the kitchen, the soup is just boiling over, the roast meat just
going to burn, and the cakes in the oven are just going to turn
black. She quickly takes the soup off the fire, pours water on the
roast meat, draws the cakes out of the oven, and puts everything
right, and though very hungry, takes nothing but a few crumbs
which have fallen off while she was trimming the cakes.

But now comes a water-nixie with frightful hair which has
certainly not been combed out for a year, and desires the girl to
comb it without twitching it, or pulling a single hair out, which
at length, with much dexterity, she accomplishes. The nixie now
says that she would much like to keep the giil with her, but can-
not do so because she ate the two or three crumbs, but she gives
her a ring and other things, and says if at night she turns the ring
round she will come to her. The other daughter likewise has now
to go to the nixie, and is thrown into the well, but she does every-
thing wrong, does not restrain her hunger, and therefore comes
back with evil gifts.

W. Pieynitzsch gives a sixth story from Thuringia in his book,
Ueber Truliten und Trulitensteine* (Gotha, 1802), pp. 128-131.
The pretty sister, whose distafi" has fallen into the well, is pushed
down by the wicked ugly one (aischliche). She comes into a wide
open country. A little white man goes with her into a green
meadow in which a minstrel with his fiddle meets her, receives her
singing, and accompanies her. A red cow begs to be milked in
order that her udder may not burst ; the girl does it. At last they
reach a magnificent town ; the little man asks by which gate she will
enter — the golden gate, or the pitch gate? She chooses the latter
out of humility, but is led through the first, where everything is
dropping with gold, and her face and clothes become gilded. A
maiden asks her where she will live ; in the white house, or in the
black one ? She again says, " In the black one," but is conducted
to the white one. Another asks her whether she would prefer to
spin gold flax with pretty spinning-girls and have her meals with
them, or with cats and snakes. The girl is terrified, but is taken to
the golden spinners and eats roast meat with them, and drinks beer
and mead. After she has led a delightful life there for some time
she is taken back through a golden gate by another little man, and
reaches home covered with golden garlands. On her arrival the
yellow cock crows " Cock a doodle doo ! Cock a doodle doo ! " and
every one cries, " Here comes Golden Mary." The ugly sister now
also lets herself be pushed into the well. Everything happens quite
contrariwise with her. A little black man guides her, she passes

* On Druids and Druidical Stones.

2 B 2

372 grimm's household tales.

by a gate of pitcli into a misty abode of snakes and toads, where
she is not allowed to eat so much as she wants, and has no rest
day or night. In the Naubert collection (1. 136-179) the story
is on the whole treated in the same way as in the fourth tale
from Hesse, and in the same manner as the rest, but it is very
pleasantly amplified. There is another method of treatment in
Mad. Villeneuve's stories, of which in 1765 a translation ap-
peared in Ulm, under the title, Die junge Amerikanerin. The
Marmot (Liron), so the step-child is called, has to perform the
coarsest work, keep the sheep, and at the same time bring back
home with her an appointed quantity of spun thread. The maiden
frequently seats herself on the edge of a well, and one day when
she is about to wash her face, she falls in. When she comes to her-
self again, she finds herself in a crystal globe in the hands of a
beautiful nixie, whose hair she is obliged to comb, for which she
receives a magnificent dress, and whenever she lets down her hair and
combs it, bright flowers are to fall from it, and whenever she is in
trouble she is to plunge into the well and seek help from the nixie.
The nixie likewise gives her a shepherd's crook which will keep off
wolves and robbers ; a spinning-wheel and distaff, which spin of
their own accord, and lastly, a tame beaver able to perform many
services. When Marmot comes home one evening with these
things, the other daughter also is to get some like them for herself,
and she jumps down the well. She falls however, into a morass,
and because of her pride receives the gift, that stinking weeds and
rushes shall grow out of her head, and that if she pulls one out still
more shall grow. Marmot alone can remove the hateful decoraticm
for a day and a night if she combs her, and now she is always
obliged to do it. Then follows the further history of Marmot for
which other stories are used ; she always has to perform something
which is dangerous, but by the aid of her magical gifts she does
everything safely. In Hesse they say when it snows, " Frau
HoUe is making her bed ; " in Hoi stein, " St. Peter is shaking up
his bed ; " or " The angels are picking feathers and down," vide
Miillenhoflf, p. 583. In" Swabian, see "Meier, 77. Kuhn, No. 9.
Holstein, see Miillenhoff, No. 31, 51. There is a story from
Alsace, in Stober's Volkshuch, p. 113. In Norwegian in Asbjornsen,
p. 86. Roumanian, from the Bukowina, in Wolf's Zeitschrift fur
MytJioIogie, 1. 42. In the Fentamerone, Tlie two Cakes (4, 7). The
first story in the Brunsivick Collection has some affinity. The
proud wild Fir-tree (Stolze Folire) in Ziska, p. 38, is allied to this ;
also two Servian tales in Wuk, No. 34, 36. Compare the stories
of Frau Halle in our Deutsche Sagen, vol. ii, and Panzer's German
Mijtholog^j, i. 125, 190. For Norse stories see P. E. Miiller's
Sagahihliothek, \, 2>14:-275,

NOTES. — TALE 25. 373

25. — The Seven Kavens.

From the Maine district, but the be,2;inning, np to where the little
sister goes out into the world, is added fiom a Viennese story. The
former only tells briefly that the three little sons (seven in the
latter) play at cards on Sunday, during church time, and on that
account are bewitched by their mother, as in a story in E. M. Arndt,
where for the same reason they are changed into mice (see further
on). The story of the Six Swans, No. 49, has some resemblance, in
which story, too, the Austrian one is merged. In that we have the
ravens in the black and more unhappy form ; in the story of the
Twelve Brothers they also appear in the same way as here, and the
whole bears some affinity. We have also a story about the Glass
Mountain from Hanau. Ihere was an enchanted princess whom no one
could set free, who had not climbed the Glass Mountain whither she
was banished. Then a young apprentice came to the inn ; a boiled
chicken was set before him for dinner, all the bones of which he
carefully collected, put them in his pocket, and went towards the
Glass Mountain. When he had got there he took out a little bone,
stuck it in the mountain, and climbed on it, and then he stuck in
one little bone after the other until he had in this way mounted
almost to the top. He had only one single step more to make, but
the little bone was wanting to do it with, whereupon he cut off his
little finger and stuck it in the Glass Mountain, and thus attained
the summit and released the princess. Thus does Sivard deliver
proud Bryniel af Glarbierget (Altddn. Lieder, S. 31), riding up it
on his foal. In a song from Ditmars, occurs

"So schalst du my de Glasenburg*
Mit eenen Perd opriden."

Wolfdieterich is bewitched in a tomb, where, according to the Dresd.
GedicM, Str. 289.

vir perg umb in geleit,t
die waren auch glesseine
und waren hel und glatt."

In the old edition it says (Str. 1171),

" mit glasse was furware J
burg und grabe iiberzogen,
es mocht nichts wan zura tore
sein in die burg geflogen."

* And thus shalt thou ascend the Glass Mountain on horseback.

t Four mountains lay around it, they were also like crystal, and were
bright and smooth.

X Truly castle and moat were coated with glass, nothing could have
entered the gate unless it had flown.

374 geimm's household tales.

A Glass Mountain occurs in the Younger Tlturel (Str. 6177) also
in other stories, viz. in Snow-ivhite (No. 53), in the Raven (No. 93),
in the Iron Stove (127). King Arthur dwells with Morgan le fay, on
the Glass island, and it is eas}'' to trace a connection not in words
alone, with the Norse Glasiswoll. In Scotland, walls are still to
be found covered as it were with glass (vitrified forts), see Archceologia
Britan. 4. 242. Saemundar Edda, 2. see 879, Notes.

When the little sister reaches the end of the world, we may
compare the observations in the Scottish version of the Frog King
(No. 1). Fortunatus also travels until at last he can go no farther,
with reference to which Nyerup (Morskahsldsning, p. 161) quotes
the following song,

" gamle Sole ligge der*
og forslidte Maaners Ear,
hvoraf Stjerner klippes."

With this should be compared a song in the Wunderhorn, 1 ; 300.
In the Younger Titurel it is said,

" swer an der erden ende f
so tiefe sich geneiget,
der vindet sunder wende
daz er Antarticura wol vingerzeiget 4748.'*

Wolfram speaks of a laud,

" daz so nah der erden orte liget,J
da nieman fuvbaz buwes pfliget,
und da der tatjesterne uf get
so nah, swer da ze fuoze stet
in dunct daz er wol reichte dran.'*
Willehalm, 35, 5-9.

Vossius, in his Ahhandlung uber die alte Weltkunde, gives the
following fragments. " The Spinning-girls tell of a young tailor's
apprentice who travelled farther and farther, and after manifold
adventures with griffins, enchanted princesses, wizard-dwarfs, and
fierce mountain-piling giants at last reached the end of the world.
He did not find it as it is commonly supposed to be, all boarded up
\vith planks, thi'ough the seams of which one sees the holy angels
busily engaged in brewing storms, forging lightning, and working

* Old suns are lying there, and a host of waned moons, out of which
stars are cut.

t Whosoever hends down deep enough at the world's end, will find that
without turning round, he points his finger to the Antarctic (regions).

J That lies so near the end of the earth that no one takes thought for
building, and where the morning star rises so near that whoever sets foot
there fancies he can almost touch it.

NOTES. — TALES 26, 27. S75

np the old sunshine into new moonlight, and the used-up moon and
starlight into northern lights (aurora), rainbows, and the bright
twilight of the summer nights. No, the blue vault of heaven
sank down on the surface of the earth like a dome. The moon was
just rising above the horizon, and the tailor allowed himself the
pleasure of touching it with his fore-finger. But it hissed, and
skin and flesh were scorched off to the nail." Falk has elaborated
this story in his Osterhuchhin^ pp. 178-252. Compare Kuhn, No. 7.
Miillenhoff, No. 3. Biichlein fur die Jugend^ No. 1. Meier, No. 49.
Sommer, No. 11. Asbjornsen, No. 3. The Seven Doves in the Pen-
tamerone, (4, 8), A Lithuanian story, see Schleicher, pp. 109-112, is
allied, and so is a Finnish story, as is remarked by Schiefner, p. 607.
A portion of the fable reminds us also of the ancient Danish ballad
of Berner Eavn, who was bewitched by his step-mother, and whose
sister gave him her little child, that by means of its eyes and heart's
blood he might be restored to his human form again.

26. — Little Eed Cap.

From the Maine district. See Perrault's Chaperon Rougej whence
Tieck's charming elaboration in the Romantic Foems. In a
Swedish popular song (Folkviser, 3. 68, 69) Jimgfrmi i Bldskagen
(Black Forest) is a kindred story. A girl is to go across the
country to a wake. Her way leads through a dark forest, where
the grey wolf meets her. "Ah dear wolf," says she, " do not bite
me, and I will give thee my shift sewn with silk." "Thy shift
sewn with silk is not what I want, I will have thy young life and
blood ! " So she offers her silver shoes, and then her golden crown,
but all was in vain. In her trouble she climbs up a high o^k-
tree, but the wolf undermines the root. In her terrible anguish the
girl utters a piercing cry. Her lover hears it, saddles bis horse, and
rides with the swiltuess of a bird, but when he arrives at the spot,
the oak is lying uprooted, and all that remains of the girl is one
bleeding arm.

27. — The Bremen Town Musicians.

From two stories heard in the district of Paderborn. A third from
Zwehrn differs in this respect, that the four animals do not drive
the robbers out of the house in a fright, but enter it peaceably,
make music, and in return are entertamed by them. The rubbers
then go out in search of booty, and when they return home at
midnight the one who is sent first to light up the house meets with
the same adventures that in the other stories befel the one who
went to reconnoitre. In EoUenhagen's Froschmeuseler, book 3,
chap. 8, we find our story with the title. How the ox and the ass
together with their companions storm a hut i7i the forest.

376 grimm's household tales.

In our tale the wild bf^asts of the forest have become robbers.
The former is certainly earlier, for in the Latin Reinhart Fuchs
(IsengrimuSj 529, and following), is a fable accordinsi; to which the
goat, buck, fox, stag, cock, and goose go a-trave!ling, establish
themselves in a hut in the forest, and play a trick on the wolf who
comes to it ; as is also related in a story from Transylvania,
(See Haltrich, No, 4) with which No. 41 is closely allied.
Especially is it to be observed that here the strong, wild,
and powerful animals are deceived (as in No. 102,) where dwarfs
overreach giants. Eollenhagen is more complete, inasmuch as in
his version the ox and the goose also appear, and with regard to
this latter, we must particularly notice the good incident of the
frightened man's mistaking her beak for a pair of red-hot iron
tongs. A Swabian story, the Robher and the Domestic Animals, is
to be found in Meier, No, 3. Compare as a whole, the establishment
in the Ragamufins, No. 10.

28. — The Singing Bone.

From Lower Hesse, whence also, though from two different
places, we have two other stories. They begin like the story of The
Water of Life, No. 97. An old King becomes ill and wants to give
away his crown, but does not know to which of his three (or two)
sons. At length he decides that it shall fall to the one who can
catch a bear (or wild boar) with a golden padlock. The eldest
goes out and has a horse, a cake, and a bottle of wine to take with
him on his way. A little dwarf is sitting under a tree in the forest
who asks kindly, " Whither goest thou ? " and begs for a little
piece of cake. The prince answers haughtily, gives him nothing, and
is therefore " ill-wished " by the dwarf, that he shall seek the bear
in vain. So he goes home again having done nothing. The second
is sent out, but has no better success ; and now it is the turn of the
youngest, the simpleton, who is ridiculed, and who receives a stick
instead of a horse, bread instead of cake, and water in place of wine.
In the forest the little man speaks to him also; he answers civilly,
and shares his food with him. Then the little man gives him a
rope with which he catches the bear, and brings it home. The
other story briefly relates that the second son slays the wild boar ;
the eldest brother sees him coming, goes to meet him, and kills him.
The rest of the story is the same. For a fourth story, see Colshorn,
No. 71. A fifth from Switzerland is coinmunicated by Wackernagel
in Haupt's Zeitschrift, 3. 35, 36. A boy and a girl are sent into the
forest to seek a flower, the one who finds it is to have the kingdom.
The girl finds it and falls asleep. The brother comes up, kills the
sleeping girl, covers her with earth, and goes away. Afterwards a
shepherd-boy finds a little bone, and makes a flute of it. The

NOTES. — TALE 29. 377

little bone begins to sing, and gives an account of everything that
has been done. A sixth is in Miillenhuff, No. 49.

The same saga occurs in an old Scotch ballad, a harper makes a
harp of the breast-bone of the drowned sister, which be^nns to play
of its own accord, and accuses the guilty sister (Scott's Minstrelsy^
2. 157-162). In the Faroese ballad on the same subject, we have
the incident of the harp-strings being made of the murdered girl's
hair ; see Schwedische Volkslieder^ by Greyer and Al'zelius, 1. 86.
In Polish, see Levvestam, p. 105. See also The Esthonian Tales of
H. Neus, p. 56. In a Servian story in W uk, JMo. 39, an elder-tube
used as a flute reveals the mystery. The Bechuauas also, in South
Africa, have a similar story.

29. — The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs,

From Zwehrn; another story from the MaYne district agrees
with it on the whole, but is much less complete; three feathers
only are demanded by the phoenix-bird, as the Devil is called.
A third, also from lower Hesse, contains a portion of the story,
and introduces it in this manner. A certain princess sees a wood-
cutter at work under her window, and falls in love with him for
his beauty. It is decreed that whosoever shall bring three golden
hairs oitt of the Devil's head, shall be her husband. Many princes
have already undertaken the enterprise unsuccessfully, and now the
wood-cutter, in his love for her, ventures it. There is no difference
in the method of working this out — there is a slight variation in
the two first questions which are put, why a village-fountain had
rim dry, and why a fig-tree was no longer green. When he brings
the answers he receives in recompense besides gold, two regiments
of infantry, and with these he compels the aged King to keep his
word. Different, but akin to it, is the Swiss story of the Vogd
Greif^ (No. 165). Biisching's Volksmdrchen (No. 59) give us an
oral tradition also, the conditions with respect to dissolving the
enchantment are much increased, and the whole seems diffuse and
amplified in the French style. See I7ie Five Questions in VV oil's
Uausmdrchen, p. 184. Meier, Nos. 73-79. Piohlc's il/arc7ier2./iir die
Jugend, No. 8. Die Drachenfedern, Zingerle, p. 69. There is a beau-
tiful Swedish story in the Popular Tales of Afzelius (2. 161-167;;
a Norwegian story in Asbjoriisen, No. 5 ; a Wendish m Haupt and
Schmaler; a Hungarian, called The Brothers, in Mailath, No. 8.
Compare a Mongohan story, in Gesser Khan, p. 142, and following.
Allied to the opening of the story is an old saga of the Emperor
Heniy III. (see Deutsche Sagen, 2, No. 480 ; see Oesta Romanorum^
under No. 2). The last part, where the questions are put to the Devil,
bears some resemblance to an Italian story in the Pentamerone (4. 3).
A story in Saxo Grammaticus, in the eighth book, which belongs
to this subject, is noteworthy. Thorkill arrives at Utgard, which

378 GEIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES.

is described as like hell. There he snatches from Loki one of
his long hairs which shines like fire. Here we may compare P. E.
Miiller upon Saxo Grammaticus (p. 141, and following), who
accepts as a fact that this journey of Thorkill's was written after the
introduction of Christianity. The superstition of the caul (pileus
naturalis, in Lampridius) is also indigenous in Iceland ; a spirit is said
to dwell in it which accompanies the child its whole life through, on
which account the caul is carefully preserved and concealed. In
Belgium it is called the helmet (helm), and according to whether it
is red, or pale and bkckish in colour, they inter the child's future
fortunes {Del Rio, disquisitt. magicae, 4. 2, 9, 7); compare Edda
Saemundar 2, Note 653. The Devil's mother or grandmother is
ispoken of in the Grerman Mythology. Here she is good-natured * and
hf Ips the oppressed, as in the English story of Jack and the Beanstalk.
The giant's daughters also seem kindly disposed to the stranger.

30. — The Louse and the Flea.

From Cassel. It approaches the form of the nursery song, Es
schickt der Herr den Jokel aus, er soil den Hafer schneiden, &c.
('orapare No. 16 in Kuhn and Schwartz, and Halliwell's Nursery
Bliymes.

31. — The Girl without Hands.

From two stories current in Hesse which, on the whole, complete and
agree with each other. The one from Zwehrn lacks the beginning,
and only says that a father wanted to have his own daughter to
wife, and as she refused, cut off her hands (and breasts), made her
put on a white shirt, and drove her out into the world. The sequel
of this story, however, which is told almost in the same way,
surpasses the other in internal completeness, only in the former the
incident of its being the Devil who changes the letters is retained,
whereas here it is the old Queen who is from the very first ill-
disposed towards her step-daughter, who does it. There are also
the distinguishing features, that before the girl mairies the King
she keeps the fowls for a while in his courtyard, and that after-
wards, when she is driven out with her child on her back into
the wild forest, an old man bids her fold her maimed arms thrice
round a tree, and while she is doing this, they (and her breasts also)
will, by God's grace, grow again of their own accord. He also tells
her that the house in which she is to live, will only be allowed to
open to him who shall thrice beg for admission for God's sake,

* There is a wild place among the rocks near Wooler, iu Northumber-
land, where the Devil is said to ha^-e cooked his gi-andmothcr This
seems to imply that there was a sequel to some one of these stories which
turn on her helping others to outwit him. In South Wales, too, the witch-
elm is called the tree on which the Devil hanged his grandmother. — Tr.

NOTES. — TALE 31. 379

whicli the King, when he comes to it, is afterwards forced to
do before he is let in. A third story from the district of Paderborn
coincides on the whole with that fiom Zwehrn. Instead of an
angel, a little light which comes down from heaven guides the
unhappy maiden. As she is going about in the forest with her
stumps of arms, t^he sees a blind mouse which puts its head into a
running stream, and thus receives its sight again. So, weeping and
praying, the girl holds her arms under water, and her hands grow once
more. A fourth tale from Mecklenburg contains another form of
the saga. A certain man had a daughter, still a child, who day and
night was always at prayer. He grew angry and forbade her to do
it, but she went on praying continually, until at last he cut out her
tongue, but she prayed in thought, and embraced the cross with her
arms. Then the man became still more angry, and cut ofif her
right hand, but she clasped the cross with her lett. He cut ofif her
arm as far as the elbow. Then a man said to her, " Depart, or thy
father will cut off thy left arm as well." She was just seven years
old, and she walked onwards and ever onwards until in the evening
she came to a great house, in front of which a huntsman was stand-
ing. She mads him understand that she was hungry, and that she
wished he would let her go in. The huntsman would willingly
have done it, but did not know where to put her ; at length he
took her to a dog's kennel, where two pet dogs of the rich Count,
in whose service tie was, were lying. She stayed two years in the
kennel, and ate and drank with the dogs. Then the Count remarked
how thin the dogs were growing, and asked the huntsman what
was the reason, and be confessed that he had taken in a girl who was
sharing their food. The Count said that he was to fetch her to
him, but the girl would not come ; so he hiroself went down to the
dog-kennel and saw her, and said she was to go with him into his
castle and he would bring her up. She was then nine years old,
and it happened that one day when she was standing by the gate,
a poor grey-haired man came and begged for a charitable gift.
She gave him something, and then he said, " Thou shalt have
thy tongue and thine arm back again," and gave her a staff and
said, " Take this staff, and walk straight onwards, it will protect
thee from evil, and shuw thee thy way." So she took the staff and
walked on for the space of two years. She reached a lake and
drank some of it, and then her tongue came swimming to her and
grew fast in her mouth, and then she put the maimed stump into
the water, and the arm came and grew last in its old place, and after
that the hand came also. And now she took the staff, aud returned
to the Count, but she had grown so beautiful that he no longer
knew her. She made herself known to him, and they were
married.

One can see that this story is the popular source from which in

380 gkimm's household tales.

the middle ages sprang the well-known poems Mai anl Beajlor
Fair Helena and others. A fragment of a fourth story from
Hesse coincides also strikingly with this. In this the Queen is
driven out with her children, and her two fingers are cut off, which
the children carry about with them. The child' en are stolen from
her by wild beasts, and serve as scullions, and the mother as a
washerwoman.

A story from Meran, in Zingerle, p. 124, which is linked with
the story of The Two Brothers (No. 60), also helon-is to this group.
So likewise does No. 36 in Prohle's Kindermdrchen. La Penta
manomozza, in the Pentamerone (3. 2) ; two Servian tales (Wuk,
Nos. 27-33) are allied, and probably also a Finnish story in Eud-
bek (1. 140). See Schiefner, 600, 616. An old German tale
contains the saga of a king who wishes to have a wife who
resembles his daughter. The Pope gives him permission to have
the daughter, who refuses him, and is put into a barrel. {Pfdlz.
MS. 336, folio 276-286.) The girl's washing herself clean with
her tears occurs also in a Sw^edish song (Geyer, 3. 37, 38) when
the mother comes out of her grave to her children.

*' hon tvalla dera s§, snohvit
alt uti ognatar."

[A story which I have never met with in print, but which was told
me by my friend the late James Macdonell, bears a strong resem-
blance to Das Mddchen ohne Hande, No. 31, in so far as the method
employed to escape from the power of the Evil One is concerned.
The beginning is very different. It is as follows. In a lonely farm-
house, near Tomintoul, Banffshire, dwelt a poor farmer with his
wife and family. Things had gone ill with him, and he had for
some time not been able " to make all emls meet." At length he
was obliged to let his eldest daughter ^go out to service. In
order to find a place she walked to the hirings held at Gran-
town, which was several miles from her own home. These
hirings were held twice a year at the great Candlemas and
Martinmas fairs, and men and women stood in the market-place
waiting to find places. She stood all day long, but no one hired her.
At last, late in the evening, and bitterly disappointed at losing this
chance of helping her family, she went homewards. Her way was
a very lonely one, and led her across the spurs of mountains, just as
they dipped down into the moorland, and long before she drew near
home, darkness fell. Suddenly, as she was hurrying onwards, a
man joined her whom she had never before seen. " Good evening,
mistress," said he, " Good evening," said she, and as he still con-
tinued to walk by her side, and talk to her, she told him of the great
disappointment she had just met with. " No one has hired you ! "
cried he. " Why, what wages do you w^ant ? " She told him the

KOTES. — TALE 32. 381

amount, and he said, " I will hire you ; you shall come to me, and
here are your arles" (God's-penny). The girl had been very ^lad
when he said that he would hire her ; but as he put the money in
her hand, she shivered all over, and felt that there was something
awful about this stranger. She took the arles, however, and then
he told her that at twelve o'clock on the following night she was to
come to him at a place very near her father's house, where four roads
met. When she got home she told her father and mother what she
had done, and what she thought about this stranger, and they too
were much alarmed and convinced that he was the Devil. They
sent for the piiest, who came in the morning. He, too, said that the
stranger was the Devil, but declared that the girl must keep her
word with him. So when night came she went to the place where
the four roads met, and by the priest's orders, drew a circle, and
stood within it, saying always the Lord's Prayer and Ave Maria.
At midnight there was a loud clap of thunder, and an au'-iry flash
of forked lightning, and immediately after a host of horrible black
fiends rushed forward against her, screaming and gesticulnting as if
they would rend her in pieces. Her alarm was intense ; but some-
how she was just able to remember that the priest had told her
never for a moment to cease praying, and making the sign of the
cross, and never by any chance to allow herself to be territied into
overstepping the limits of the circle. She was likewise not to turn
her back to her enemies. They, f r their part, did their utmost to
make her leave the circle and to weary her out with terror, that she
might lose all power of resisting them. Sometimes they attacked
her in front, sometimes behind, rushing madly on her, making the
most horrible faces, utteriog the most horrible cries, glaring at her
with fierce fiery eyes, or seeming about to claw her forth and
destroy her. Over and over again she felt as if she must faint for
very weariness, or turn and fall into their power, but at length
after many hours, a pale light in the sky showed that day would
ere long dawn, and a cock crowed, on which all vanished, and
she was delivered. — Tb.]

32. — Clever Hans,

From the Maine district. There is a similar story in Frei's Garten-
gesellschaft (1557), chap. 1., and one with corresponding incidents,
but told in difierent words, in KirchhoPs Wendunmuf (1565),
1. No. 81. We give the story from the former book.

In the valley of Geslinger dwelt a very rich widow, who
had an only son, who was heavy-headed and dull-witted, and
the most foolish of all the dwellers in this valley. This same
dolt once upon a time saw at Saarbruck the daughter of a noble-
man of high repute. The fool fell in love with her at once, and
charged his mother to get this girl to be his wife, or else he would

382 gkimm's household tales.

beat in all the stoves and windows, and break up all the stairs in
tlie house. The mother was well aware what a stupid head her
son had, and feared that even if she did seek this young girl in
marriage for him, and gave him a large amount of property as
well, he would still be such an uncouth ass that nothing could
ever be made of him. However, as the girl's parents, though
noble and of good family, were so ill off that their poverty made
them unable to provide for her in a manner suitable to her station, this
part of the wooing was more easily managed. But then the mother
feared that as her son was such a great clumsy blockhead, perhaps
the girl would not have him, and gave him all kinds of instructions
so that he might be able to behave courteously and attentively to
the bride. The first time this blockhead has any conversation
with the girl she gives him a beautiful pair of gloves of soft
Spanish leather. The yokel puts them on, and then it begins to rain
heavily ; but he keeps the gloves on and goes home ; it is all the same
to him whether they get wet or not. When he is crossing a plank, he
slips off, and falls into the water and mud. He arrives at home very
dirty, and his gloves have become mere pulp. He complains to his
mother. The good old mother scolds him and says he ought to
have wrapped them in his pocket-handkerchief and have thrust
them in his breast. Soon aftevw^ards the worthy young goose again
goes to see the girl. She enquires about the gloves, and he tells
her what has happened. She laughs, notes this first proof of
his wisdom, and presents him with a hawk. He takes it, goes
home, and remembering his mother's words, strangles the hawk,
folds him up in his neckerchief, and puts him in his breast. Hav-
ing arrived at home, he wants to show his mother the beautiful
bird, and draws it out of his breast. The mother again takes
him to task, and says that he ought to have carried it carefidly on
his hand. The yokel goes a third time to see the girl, who asks
how the hawk is, and he tells her what he did to it. She thinks
*' He is an absolute fool I " and seeing plainly that nothing delicate
or beautiful is suitable to him, makes him a present of a harrow,
which he is to use when he has sown his corn. He has laid to
heart his mother's words, and like a stupid fellow carries it home
in his hands. His mother is anything but pleased, and says that
he should have tied it to a horse and have had it dragged home.
At length the girl sees that chrism and baptism have been thrown
away on him, for there is neither reason nor understanding in him,
and not knowing how to get rid of the fool, gives him a great piece
of bacon and thrusts it in his bosom, and he is quite satisfied. He
wants to go home, but is afraid of losing it out of his breast, so he
ties it to a horse's tail, mounts the horse, and rides home. Then
the dogs run after him and tear the bacon from the horse's tail and
devour it. He reaches home, but the bacon is gone. The mother

NOTES. — TALE 32. 383

sees in this more of her son's wisdom, fears the wedding will never
take place, goes to the girl's parents, and requests to know the day
when the formal demand in marriage can be made ; but before she
goes away, she earnestly charges him to keep house well, and not to
make a great deal of noise, for she has a goose sitting on some eggs.
As soon as his mother is out of the house, Hans goes into the cellar,
drinks his fill of wine and loses the tap of the cask, and while he
is looking for it, all the wine runs out in the cellar. The clever
fellow takes a sack of flour and empties it on the wine that his
mother may not see it when she comes. Then be goes back to
the house and is violently sick. The goose is sitting there on hei
eggs and is terrified, and cries, "Gaga! gaga!" the stupid fellow
is seized with alarm, and thinks the goose is saying, " 1 will tell
about it," and fears she will tattle about how he has behaved
in the cellar, so he cuts off her head. He is afraid that
the eggs will be destroyed too, and then he Avill be in a peck
of troubles; and thinks it over, and makes up his mind to
sit on the eggs himself, but after all thinks he would not be able
to manage that as he is not covered with feathers like the goose.
He soon has a good thought, undresses himself entirely, smeais
his body all over with some honey his mother has just made, and
then empties a bed and rolls himself all over in the feathers till he
looks like a tomtit, and then he sits down upon the goose's eggs
and is perfectly quiet lest he should frighten the young geese. While
this buffoon is thus sitting, his mother arrives and knocks at the door.
The dolt sits on the eggs and will give no answer ; she knocks
again, so he calls out " Gaga ! gagi ! " thinking that as he is sitting
on young geese (or fools) he can't speak in any other way. At
length his mother threatens him so severely that he creeps out
of the nest, and lets her in. As soon as she sees him, she thinks
it is the Devil himself, and asks what it means, and he tells her
everything in the order in which it occurred. The mother is very
anxious about this great fool, for the bride is soon to follow, so she
tells him she will willingly forgive him, and that he is to behave
himself well now for the bride is coming, and that he must receive
and greet her in a really friendly manner, and be always casting kind
eyes on her. The fool says " Yes, 1 will do everything I can," washes
off the feathers, dresses himself again, goes into the stable, cuts all
the sheep's eyes out and puts them in his breast. As soon as
the bride comes, he goes to meet her, and throws all the eyes
in her fiice, thinking that is what he has to do. The good young
girl is ashamed of being made so dirty, and having her apjiearance
spoilt, perceives the youth's want of sense, and that he will never
be fit for anything, goes home again and gives him up. So he
was a fool afterwards as he had been a fool before, and is still to
this day sitting on young geese to hatch them. I am afraid

384 GRIMM*S HOUSEHOLD TALES.

however that if ever they come forth they will be young fools.
God forbid.

The wise deeds of Clever Hans are sometimes told in one way
and sometimes in another, and are either multiplied or diminished.
They are given with some variations in Wolfs Zeitschrift, 2. 386,
after an oral tradition from Lower Silesia. Akin to this are the
stories of Clever Alice, No. 34, and of Catherliesdien, No. 59, in
which occurs the jest related by Frei of the dryino; up the wine which
has run out, with flour. The Little Grandmother, in Vogl, p. 93,
should be compared with this, also a Tyrolese story in Zingerle,
p. 10, and a Swabian in Meier, No. 52. The hatching of the calves
in Hans Sachs (2. 4, 138, Kempt edition) is also related to this group.
There is also a story of a goat which Hans took to bed, and other
things of the same kind. BebelUi facetiae (Amst. 1651), 47-49.
A nursery song {Dichtungen aus der Kinderwelt; Hamburg, 1815)
is also related to our story, and has new jests—

By the stream sits little Hans

Carrying out some clever plans.

His little house is burnt with fire.

So he's wearing his rags to make them dryer.

And having fish in plenty caught

The scales alone he home has brought.

Hansel and Grethel,
A merry young pair,
Hansel has no wits.
And she none to spare.

The story of Foolish Lazy Earry^ which Eollenhagen refers
to in the preface to Froschmeuseler, is to be found in Hans
Sachs (2. 4. 85"-86'^). Lazy Harry imitates the dog and cat.
See Der alherne Heinz in Eyering (2. 116). Lazy Lenz is
mentioned in the Mdgdetroster (1663), p. 92.

33. — The Three Languages.

From the Upper Valais, related by Hans TrufFer from Visp. The
Pope was perhaps intended for Silvester 11. (Gerhert) of whom
Vincent Bellov. {Spec. hist. xxiv. 98) says, " ibi (in Seville) didicit
et cantus avium et Vdlatus mj'sterium." But it is also told that at
the election of Innocent III. (in the year 1198) three doves flew
about the church, and that at length a white one came and perched
itself on his right shoulder. See Eaumer Hohenstaufen iii. 74.

[Of David, "father " of the Monks of Kose Valley, it is thus
related, " When a boy, his schoolfellows declared that they often
saw a white dove teaching and advisinsj him ; and in this age every
person designed for a Bi&hop or Saint was so attended when offici-

NOTES. — TALES 34, 35. 885

ating, and the dove continued until the service was enrled. In
the old woodcuts of the Golden Legend, the Popes are uniformly
ilistinguished bv a Dove whispering in their ears." Anglia
Sacra ii. 631.— Tr.]

34. — Clever Alice.

From Zwehrn. Another story called, Hansen'' s Trine, also from
Hesse, likewise begins with lazy Trine asking, "What shall I do;
shall I eat, or sleep, or work? " Hans finds her asleep in the room
and cuts off her gown as far as her knees, and when she awakes,
she is confused about her identity.* On this last point a passage
in Joh. Poraarius ; Sachs Chronik. (1588), p. 14, should be
observed, which says, " Whatsoever maid or wife shall be taken in
adultery, her clothes shall be cut off beneath her girdle, and she
shall be scourged and driven away from amongst the people." As
a whole, the story of Clever Alice is allied to that of Catherlieschen,
No. 59, and in one part is identical.

35. — The Tailor in Heaven.

From a story in Frei's Oartengesellschaft, No. 61, and in Kirch-
hof s Wendunmy,t, 1. No. 230. A story varying a little in trifling
points, is to be found in Wickram's RoUwagen (Frankfurt, 1590),
pp, 98^ 99\ Fischart alludes to the story in Flohhatz (Dorna-
vius, 390) ; only, according to him, it was told of St. Peter.

**wie man von Sanct Peter saget,t
der, als er Herr Gott war ein Tag
iind Garn sah stehlen eine Magd,
wurf er ihr gleich ein Stuhl zum Schopf,
erwies also sein Peterskopf;
hats solcher Gestalt er lange getrieben,
es war kein Stuhl im Himmel blieben."

♦ See the well-known nursery rhyme about the little old woman
who fell asleep by the King's highway, and whose petticoats were cut off
by the pedlar. In Verstegan, Camb. Brit., vol. iii., p. 260, we read,
*' If either wife or maid were found in dishonesty, her clothes were cut
off round about her beneath the girdle-stead, and she was whipped and
turned out to be derided of the people." See also Probert's Ancient Laws
of Cambria. — Tr.

f As of St. Peter it is told.

In God's place how he sat one day,
And saw a maid steal yarn away.
Into her lap a chair he threw.
And showed his saintly visage too,
If to this pastime more time he had given,
Not a single chair had been left in heaven.
TOL. I. 2 C

386 grimm's household tales

In Hans Sachs (5. 3, 89, Kempt : edition ;) it is Der Schneider
mit dem Panier. The story continues to exist among the people,
and Moser mentions it in his Miscellaneous Writings, 2. 332 and 2.
235. See Jan im Himmel, in Wolf's Deutsche Sagen und
Mdrchen, No. 16. Also a Swabian story in Ernst Meier, No. 35.
The chair of the Lord, from which one is able to overlook the whole
world, strongly reminds us of Odin's seat, named Hlidscialf, from
which he saw everything that took place on earth, and on which
others occasionally seated themselves, Freya, for instance, as we
are told in the Edda. That the Tailor forced his way into heaven
with inimical intentions, is shown in Wolfs Zeitschrift fur
deutsche Mythologie, 2. 2.

" der nu den himel hat irkorn *
der geiselet uns bi unser babe,
ich fiihrte sere und wird im zorn
den flegel wirft er uns her abe."

Altmeistergesangb. 3".

36. — The Wishing-table, the G-gld-ass, and the Cudgel in the

Sack.

From Hesse. Another story also from there begins thus. A
tailor has three sons, whom he sends out into the world one after the
other, to look about them and see if they can learn some honest
trade. That they may not go forth quite unprovided, each has a
pan-cake and a farthing given to take with him on the way.
The eldest goes forth first and comes to a little master, who dwells
it is true in a nut-shell, but is immensely rich. The tailor for
liberal payment is to watch and take his flock to pasture on the
mountains, only the little master tells him, he is not to be
allowed to go into a house which stands at the foot of the mountain,
from which meriy dance music resounds. For a time the tailor
keeps the herd quite properly, but in the end he allows himself to
be led away, and goes into the forbidden house. So his master dis-
charges him ; but as in other respects he has behaved well, he gives
him a table that can cover itself with food. With this he goes home,
but on the way it is exchanged ; he has also eaten his pan-cake, and
spent his farthing, and brings nothing back with him but a table that
is useless. And now the second son is sent out and comes to the same
little master, and has a like fate, and instead of a real gold-donkey,
brings a false one with him. On the other hand, the third son stays
with the little master for a whole year as the latter desired, and as he
has filled his ears with cotton- wool, the house with the music is never
dangerous to him. When he takes leave he receives a "Cudgel

* He who has chosen heaven, scourges us Cin proportion) to our goods.
I very much fear that in his anger he will throw down his scourges on us.

NOTES. — TALES 37, 38. 387

in the sack," with which he gets back the magic things
which his brothers have lost and they live very happily with
their father, who now rejoices that he did not squander away the
little he had on his sons. In Lina^s Mdtrhenbuch, by Albert
Ludwig Grimm, see No. 4, The Cudgel in the Sack. Compare
with this the story from Meran, in Zingerle, pp. 84 and 185, and a
Swabian story, Meier, No. 22. In Danish, see Etlar, p, 150. In
Norwegian, Asbjornsen, p. 43. In Netherlandish, see Wodana, No.
5. Hungarian, see Stier, p. 79.

In Polish, see Levestam, p. 105. In Wallachian, Schott, No. 20.
To this also belongs a tale from the Zillerthal,* Zingerle, p. 56, which
corresponds with the Irish story The Bottle (Elf enmarchen, No. 9),t
and also with, the Russian one. The Gentle Man and the Cross Wife^
in Dietrich, No. 8. The story of the Knapsack, Eat, and Horn
is also allied with it (No. 54).

[A version of this story is also to be found in Von Hahn's
Modern Greek Household Tales, and a somewhat similar one,
No. 1, in the Fentamerone of Basile. Mr. Henderson gives two
which are current in the East and West Ridings of Yorkshire,
in his Folklore. — Tr.]

37. — Thumbling.

From Miihlheim on the Rhine. Belongs to the same class of fables
as Thurribling as Journeyman (No. 45) ; compare the notes on that.
In Slavonic, see Voiil. No. 6. In Roumanian, from the Biikowina in
Wolfs Zeitschrift fur deutsche Mythologie, 1. 48. In Albanian, see
Hahn, 2. pp. 168,' 169.

38.— Mr. Fox.

Is told in many forms in Hesse and the Maine district : we here
give the two most important variations, the others turn
on the fact of the old fox being really dead, or only apparently so
(as in the old French poem), and whether foxes only, or other
animals as well, come to woo the widow. In the latrer case
her questions are more numerous: "What is the wooer like?
Does he, too, wear a redcap?" "Alas, no — a white one," for it
was the wolf. " Has he a little red jacket on ? " " No, a yellow one,"
for it was the liun. The speech to the cat at the beginning has
also many variations :

" Mistress Cat, Mistress Kit,
Is your fire ready lit?
Is your meat on the spit ?
What is Mistress Fox about ? **

* In the Tyrol.

f Irlsche Elft-nmarchen — a translation from Crofton Croker's Fairy
Legends, by W. Grimm, to which he added a Treatise on Elves. — Tr.

2 0 2

388 GRIMM*S HOUSEHOLD TALES,

or

afterwards

"What are you doing, my dear little cat?"
"I'm sitting here, warming each pit-a-pat;"

Away the little cat she went,
With her little tail so bent,
Away she went upstairs.
** Mistress Fox, what a beautiful beast is here.
In shape it is like the most beautiful deer ! '*

" Alas, no," answered Mrs. Fox, and made a complimentary discourse
upon her former lord, in which she spoke of his many virtues, and
howsoever highly the other animals might be gifted, some other
thing that the Fox had was always more admired.

39.— The Elves.

All three from Hesse. There is a Holstein story like the third in
Miillenhoff, p. 313, a Lithuanian in Schleicher, pp. 104, 105. Of the
verse in the third story, it should be remarked that in Dahnert's
Flatt-deutsches Worterhuch, p. 556, very old things are said to be " Old
as de Bremer wold " (as old as the forest of Bremer). Schiitze, in
the Holstein Jdioticon, 3. 173, 373, has "So oold as de Bremer
Woold." In Mullenhoff—

"ik biin so alt*
as Bemholt (Brennholz)
in dea Wolt."

In Transylvania they say " Alt wie der Kokelfluss," as old as
the river Kokel ; see Haltrich, p. 72. In Hungary, accord-
ing to Weinhold, " old as the Hungarian fcJrest ; " see Deutsche
Mythologies pp. 437, 438. The third story is also iu Colshorn,
p. 224, and in a Breton song, Barzas-Breiz, 1. 50. The Danes
have it likewise, see Thiele's Ddnische Sagen, 1. 49 ; where
the little fellow says, " Nu har jeg seet tre gang ung Skov paa Tiis
Sbe " — (I have now thrice seen young trees upon Tiis Soe.) In the
Tyrol, he says,

**Ich bin grad nett jetzt so viel Jahr schon alt,f
Als Nadeln hat die Tanne da im Wald."

*' Vonbun. Vorarlberg. Volkssagen," p. 4.

*"As old am I,

As the logs that lie

Ripe for the fire,

In the forest hard by."
f " My years are as many at this very minute,

As that pine in the forest has needles in it.*

NOTES. — TALE 40. 389

To this place also belongs No. 6 in the Irische Elfenmdrchen.
Compare the stories of the quiet folk, the benevolent dwarfs, and
well-disposed koholds in the first vol. of our Deutsche Sagen. It is a
peculiar feature that these little spirits disappear if clothes are
given to them, A little sea-dwarf will have none, and vanishes
when he receives them. See Moneys Anzeiger 1837, p. 175. A
fairy man receives a little red coat, is delighted with it, and dis-
appears, see Vonbun, pp. 3, 4.

[Stories of this kind are extremely numerous in the south of
Scotland and north of England. The best known is perhaps that
of " The cauld lad of Hilton," who devoted himself to undermin-
ing the good qualities of the servants at Hilton Castle. His practice
was to throw everything into dire confusion in the kitchens and
larders if he found these places tidy and clean ; and to put every-
thing to rights with the greatest precision if he found them
dirty and disorderly. The result of this fancy of his may be
imagined.

At length a green cloak and hood were laid for him; it was
green because it was supposed his connexion with fairyland would
induce him to prefer that colour. He was delighted, but utterly
demoralized,

"Here's a cloak and there's a hood,
And the cauld lad of Hilton will do no more good,*

said he, and disappeared for ever. — Tr.]

40. — ^The Eobbeb Bridegroom.

From two stories heard in Lower Hesse : in one, ashes are strewn
on the road to mark it instead of peas and lentils. A third and
less perfect version comes from the district of the Maine. In this
it is a king's daughter, to whom the bridegroom shows the way by
means of ribbons which he ties to every tree. While she is hidden
behind the barrel, the robbers bring in her grandmother and cut
off her finger. Compare Carol. Stahl's story of the Miller's Daughter
(see further on). See Meier, No. 63. No. 33 in Prohle's Mdrchen
fur die Jugend. In Danish, see Thiele, 2. pp. 12, 13. In Hun-
garian, Streit, p. 45.*

* In Boswell's Life of Johnson, with notes by Malone, there is this very
similar English story, which is thus alluded to by Benedick in Much Ado
about Nothing. " Like the old tale, my lord, it is not so, nor 'twas not so ;
but indeed, God forbid that it should be so." Once upon a time there was
a young lady (called Lady Mary in the story) who had two brothers. One
summer they all went to a country seat of theirs, which they had not
before visited. Among the other gentry in the neighbourhood who came
to see them was a Mr. Fox, a bachelor, with whom they, particularly the

390' geimm's household tales.

41. — Hekr Korbes.

From tlie district of the Maine, but we have heard it in Hesse also,
though the rhyme runs rather dififerently —

The carriage rolls,

The mouse squeaks.

The cock he nods his beard,

All goes well upon my word.

The Pack of Ragamuffins No. 10 is allied to this.

young lady, were much pleased. He used often to dine with them, and
frequently invited Lady Mary to come and see his house. One day when
her brothers were absent elsewhere, and she had nothing better to do, she
determined to go thither, and accordingly set out unattended. When she
arrived at the house and knocked at the door, no one answered. At length
she opened it and went in. Over the portal of the hall was written, " Be
bold, be bold, but not too bold." She advanced : over the staircase the
same inscription. She went up : over the entrance of a gallery, the same.
She proceeded : over the door of a chamber she read : " Be bold, be bold,
but not too bold, lest that your heart's blood should run cold." She opened
it — it was full of skeletons, tubs full of blood, &c. She retreated in haste.
Coming down staii-s she saw from a window, Mr. Fox advancing towards
the house, with a drawn sword in one hand, while with the other he
dragged along a young lady by her hair. Lady Mary had just time to
slip down and hide herself under the stairs before Mr. Fox and his victim
arrived at the foot of them. As he pulled the young lady upstairs she
caught hold of one of the banisters with her hand on which was a rich
bracelet, Mr. Fox cut it off with his sword : the hand and and bracelet fell
into Lady Mary's lap, who then contrived to escape unobserved, and got
home safe to her brother's house. After a few days Mr. Fox came to dine
with them as usual (whether by invitation or of his own accord this depo-
nent saith not). After dinner, when the guests began to amuse each other
with extraordinary anecdotes. Lady Maiy at length said she would relate
to them a remarkable dream she had lately had. " I dreamt," said she,
*' that as you, Mr. Fox, had often invited me to your house, I thought I
would go there one morning. When I came to the house I knocked, but
no one answered. When I opened the door, over the hall Avas written
' Be hold, he hold, hut not too bold.' But," said she, turning to Mr. Fox
and smiling, " It is not so, nor it was not so ; " then she pursued the rest
of the story, concluding at every turn with " It is not so, nor it was not
so," till she came to the room full of dead bodies, when Mr. Fox took up
the burden of the tale and said, " It is not so, nor it was not so, and God
forbid that it should be so ; " which he continued to repeat at every turn of
the dreadful story, till she came to the circumstance of his cutting off the
young lady's hand, when, upon his saying as usual, "/if is not so, nor it
vjas not so, and God forbid that it should be so," Lady Mary retorted, *' But
it is so, and it was so, and here is the hand I have to show," at the same
time producing the hand and bracelet from her lap : whereupon the guests
drew their swords, and instantly cut Mr. Fox into a thousand pieces. — Tr.

NOTES. — TALES 42, 43, 44. 391

42. — The Godfather.

This is more complete than in the earlier editions, and is taken from
a story in the BiXchlein fur die Jugend, pp. 173, 174.

43. — Frau Trude.

A better and more complete version than in the earlier editions.
Use has been made of a poem by Meier Teddy in the Frauen-
taschenJmch, 1823, p. 360.

44. — Godfather Death.

From Hesse ; but here oral tradition completes the story by the fact
of Death showing the physician the cavern with the life-candles,
and warning him. The stratagem by means of which Death
punishes his Godson is taken from the rendering of the story in
Schilling's Neue Abendgenossen, 3. 145, 286, who has also
derived it from modern folklore. The age of the story is proved
by one of Hans Sachs's Meister Songs in the year 1558, which is to
be found in a MS. collection of Meister songs in Berlin (German MSS.
No. 22 and following parts. The conclusion is different. Compare a
Meister song by Henry Wolf in the year 1644, in another collection
{German MSS. No. 24 fol. p. 496), in which first the Devil and then
Death is rejected by the peasant. Jacob Ayrer, too, has made a
Sh rove-Tuesday Play of it (the 6th in the theatrical works), called
The Peasant and his Godfather^ Death. First Jesus offers himself as
Godfather, but is not accepted by the peasant because he makes
one man rich and another poor. Thereupon the Devil comes up
whom the peasant likewise rejects (as St. Christopher did when
he was iij search of a master), because he runs away at the name of
the Lord and the holy cross. At length the Devil sends Death to him
who treats every one alike, and he stands Godfather to the child,
and promises to make him a physician, so that superabundant
wealth will come to him :

" bei alien Kranken findst du mich,*
und mich sieht man nicht bei ihn seia,
dann du sollst mich sehen allein.
wenn ich steh' bei des Kranken Fiissea
so wird derselbe sterben miissen,
alsdann so nim dich sein nicht an,
sichstu mich aber beim Kopfen stahn," &o.

By every sick man I'll be found.
But none my presence shall espy.
And none save thou know I am by.
When by the patient's feet am I,
Be sure of this that he must die.
All care is vain, his life is sped,
But if thou see'st me by his head, &o.

392 GEIMM's HOUSEnOLD TALES.

Two apple-pippins concealed in bread are all that he is to give
by way of medicine. The peasant has great success with them, but
at last Death fetches him himself. This fable, though with
peculiar variations (of which the best consists in the fact that it is
not the father but the newly-born child itself which receives the
gift of healing), is told by Pratorius in the Gluckstopf (166y, pp.
147-149). See Prohle's Kinderindrchen, No. 18. According to a
story from the Odenwald, in Wolt's Hausmarchen^ p. 365, the
physician outwits Death.

The candles with which life is bound up recall Nornagest
and the still current expressions, " to extinguish the flame of
life," or the taper of life. Already in a Greek myth was life
connected with a burning faggot. See Griiber's Mytliological
Dictionary, 3. 153. The story specially points to deep-seated
ideas ; compare Wackernagel in Haupt's Zeitsclirift, 6. 280, and
following pages. Death and the Devil are evil deities, and both are
one, in the same way that hell, the nether world and the kingdom
of the dead, run into each other in the story of the Smith.*

But the Evil One, like the good God, is called Father, and " Tatta"
The Godfather is not only called Father, but also " Pathe," " Goth,"
and "Dod," or "Tod." The baptized child is likewise called
" Pathe " and " Gotbel," hence the confusion between the two in the
story : compare Altdeutsche Walder, 1. 104, notes. Grammatically,
indeed, the words tot (mors) and tote (susceptor baptizati) are
carefully distinguished.

45. — Thumbling as Journeyman.

From stories current in the districts of the Maine, Hesse, and
Paderborn, which reciprocally complete each other. A continuation
or special combination of the detached stories, which belong to this
group, contains the story of Tkumhling (No. 37), see Prohle's
Kindermdrchen No. 30. Bechstein, p. 131. The Thumbling in Carol :
Stahl's stories also belong to this group. Compare in the Tabart
Collection, The Life and Adventures of Tom Thumb, 3 37-52 (see
further on). A Danish story similar in substance is given by Nyerup
(MorskahsJdsning, pp. 238, 239), Svend Tommling, a being not
larger than a thumb, wishes to marry a woman three ells
and three quarters high. He comes into the world with a hat on
his head and sword at his side, drives the ploush, and is caught by
a landed proprietor who keeps him in his snuff-box ; he springs out
and falls on a little pig, which becomes his riding-horse. The
Greeks have similar stories of little Thumbs. It is related of
Philytas, a poet of Cos, that he wore lead in the soles of his shoes to
prevent his being carried away by the wind ; of Archestratus, that

* Gambling Hansel, No. 82.— Tr.

NOTES. — TALE 45. 893

when he was captured by the enemy, and placed in the scales, he
only weighed as much as an obolus. Comp. Athenccus, 12, 77, in
Schweighiluser, 4. 551, 552. Aelian, Var. 9. 14 ; the Grecian Anlho-
logy also (2. 350. LXV. Jacob's Temjpe, 2, 7) furnishes us with a
contribution —

** Plotzlich erhoben vom leisesten Hauch des lispelnden Westwinds,*
stieg jiingst, leichter als Spreu, Markos zum Aether hiuauf.

Und er hatte die Luft mit rauschender Eile durchsegelt,
hiitte der Spione Geweb nicht ihm die Fiisse verstrickt,

Als er nun hier fiiaf Tag und Nachte gehangen, ergriff er
eineu der Fiiden und stieg langsani zur Erde herab."

The following, too, are also stories which belong to this group.
A certain man was so thin of body that he could jump through the
eye of a needle. Another crept nimbly on to the spider's web,
which was hanging in the air, and danced skilfully upon it until
a spider came, which spun a thread round his neck and throttled
him with it. A third was able to pierce a sun-mote with his head,
and pass his whole body through it. A fourth was in the habit of
riding on an ant, but the ant threw him oif and trampled him to
death with one foot. A filth was on one occasion blowing
up the fire, and, as in our story, flew up the chimney
with the smoke. A sixth was lying by the side of a
sleeping man, and as the latter breathed rather heavily, was blown
out of the window. Finally a seventh was so small that he
dared not go near anyone for fear of being drawn in to his nose with
the air when he breathed.

In Eucharius Eyering's Sprichworter, 1601, a spider relates,

*' Einsmals fieng ich ein Schneider stolz,-|-
der war so schwer als Lautenholz,
der mit eim Schebhut in die Wett
vom Himmel rab her fallen thet.

* Suddenly raised by the softest breath of the murmuring west wind,
Markos, lighter than chat}', mounted not long ago to aether. And he would
have sailed through the air with intoxicating swiftness, if his feet had not
caught in a spider's web. When he had hung in it for five days and nights,
he seized one of the threads and slowly descended to earth.
f Once did I catch a tailor proud,
Heavy he was as elder-wood,
From Heaven above he'd run a race.
With an old straw hat to this place,
In Heaven he might have stayed no doubt,
For no one wished to turn him out.
He fell in my web, hung in a knot,
Could not get out. I liked it not
That e'en the straw hat, safe and sound
Nine days ere him came to the ground.

394 grimm's household tales.

Er war auch wohl darinnen blieben,
niemand hat in heraus getrieben ;
fiel in mein Garn, drin hangen blieb,
nicht raus kunt komn, war mir nicht lieb,
dass auch der Schebhut ohngefehr
neun Tag ehe i-abher kam dann er."

In an Austrian popular book, we have Hansel, who is as tall as a
thumb, with a beard of an ell in length (Linz, 1815). Modern as
this version is, there are still some genuine features in it. He hides
himself with his father and mother in the hollow tooth of a whale
(see later the Servian story of The Beards Son), and is found there. He
terrifies a gambler, who is exclaiming, " May the Devil take me," by
hopping out of the chimney on to the seat by the fire all covered
with soot, and crying, " Here am I." He sets a plate of peas at
night before the door of the innkeeper's daughter's lover, which
make him fall with a great noise. When she wants to revenge
herself for it, and strews the thorns of some briars about her room
for him to walk on, he sees them, picks them up, and puts them in
her bed. He has himself placed in a horse's ear, and gives out that
it is a horse that speaks ; then he escapes by springing into a
cheese full of holes, and is thrown out of the window with it.

46. — ^Fitcher's Bird.

From two stories current in Hesse. A third from Hanover
varies. A poor wood-cutter who has three daughters goes to his
work in the forest, and orders the eldest to bring him his dinner,
and in order that she may find the way he will (as in the story of
The Robber Bridegroom, No. 40, which is as a whole allied)
strew it with peas. Three dwarfs however live in the forest, and
they hear what the man says to his child, and pick up the peas
and strew them on the path which leads to their cave. And now
at dinner-time, the girl goes to the forest, finds the path and falls
among the dwarfs. She has to be their servant, but in other
respects fares well. She is permitted to go into every apartment
in the cave but one. And now the story agrees with oars, and the
two other sisters are also lured out. When the dwarfs are forced
to carry these latter home again in the basket, and she is alone,
she plunges into the blood and then into the feathers, and sets a
bundle of straw dressed in her clothes by the hearth. As she leaves
the cave some foxes meet her who ask, " Dressed-out bird, from
whence comest thou ? " " From the dwarfs' cave where they are
making ready for a wedding." Thereupon the foxes go thither.
Some bears meet her who put the same question, and at length
the dwarfs also meet her on their w-ay home, and do not recognize
her. She gives them all the same answer. When the dwarfs

NOTES. — TALE 46. 395

enter tlieir cave and find the straw figure, they become aware of
how they have been deceived, and run after the girl ; but they are
not able to overtake her before she reaches her father's house. She
slips in safely, but the door cuts off her heel. In Prohle's Mdrchen
fur die, Jugend^ No. 7,, the story is called Fledervogel (Fiitter-bird).
A very similar Finnish story from Karalan is quoted by Schiefer,*
p. 609, from Erik Rudbek's Collection (2. 187).

The Icelandic Fitfuglar, Schwimmvogel (swimming-bird), which
looked as white as a swan, will help to explain Fitclier's
Vogel. The wizard himself having to carry the girl home, reminds
us of Eosmer in the Altddnische Lieder (see p. 201 and the
following), who also without being aware of it, carries away on
his back the first bride he had stolen. The indelible blood
appears likewise in a story in the Gesta Eomanorum. Four drops
of the blood of her innocent child whom she has murdered, fall on
a mother's hand, and she cannot remove them, and has always to
wear a glove. The fact of a dressed-up doll having to represent
the bride is also related in the story of The Hare's hride (No. 66),
and shows its relationship. Disguising the girl as a bird seems
to have some connection with the ancient custom of persons chang-
ing themselves into animals. A passage from Becherer's Thuringian
Chronicle, pp. 307, 308, where i t is related of the soldiers of the Emperor
Adolf of Nassau that " they found an aged woman whom they stripped
naked, smeared with tar, rolled in a feather-bed which they had cut
open, and then tied her to a rope and led her round the camp and else-
where as a bear or strange wild-beast, and then carried her away by
night and restored her to her original condition," seems to find an
appropriate place here. In Madrid, in the year 1824, a woman
who had permitted herself to speak in disrespectful terms of the
King, was smeared with oil over her whole body, and covered with
all kinds of feathers.

Our story visibly contains the saga of Bluebeard. We have
indeed heard this in German, and have given it in the first edition,
No. 62, but as it only differs from Perrault's La barbe bleue, by
one or two omissions, and by one peculiar circumstance, and as the
French story may have been kno\tn at the place where we heard
the story, we have, in our uncertainty, not included it again.
Sister Anne is wanting, and the part which varies contains this
feature that the distressed girl lays the bloody key in hay, and it
is a genuine popular belief that hay draws blood out. The
story in Meier, No. 38, seems also to be derived from the French.
The saga is likewise evidently to be traced in a beautiful popular
ballad, Ulrich and Annchen (Wunderhorn, 1. 274). See Herder's
Volkslieder^ 1. 79, and Grater's Idunna, 1812), where however the

* Qu. Schiefner ?

396 GRIMM*S HOUSEHOLD TALES.

blue beard is not named. Bluebeard is also the popular name of a
man whose beard o;rows strongly, as in Hamburg (Schiitze, Hoist.
Idiot. 1. 112) ; and here in Cassel, a deformed, halt-mad apprentice
lad is for the same cause tolerably well knowa by the name. There
is also (like the Norse Blatand, Blacktooth) a Blackbeard, refer-
able in the first instance to some illness, such as leprosy which
can only be cured by bathing in the blood of innocent maidens,
hence the inconceivable horror. See Der arme Eeinrich, p. 173.

We add also a Dutch story from oral tradition which belongs to
this place. A shoemaker had three daughters. Once on a time
when he had gone out, a great lord came in a splendid carriage, and
took one of the girls away with him, who never returned. Then
he took away the second in exactly the same way, and lastly the
third, who likewise went with him, believing she was about to
make her fortune. On the way, when night fell, he asked her,

"The moon shines so bright,
My horses rua so light,
Sweet love dost thou repent?**

("'t maantje schyut zo hel,
myn paardtjes lope zo snel,
soete liefje, rouwt 't w niet?")*

"No," she answered, "why should I repent? lam always safe
when with you ; " nevertheless she was secretly alarmed. They
came into a great forest, and she asked if they would soon
reach the end of their journey. "Yes," he replied, "Dost thou
see that light in the distance, there stands my castle." Then they
arrived there and everything was most beautiful. Next day he
said to her, "I must go away, but I will only be absent two
days ; here are the keys of the entire castle, and thou mayst see
of what kind of treasures thou art the mistress." When he had set
out on his journey, she went through the whole house and found
everything so beautiful that she was perfectly satisfied. At length
she came to a cellar wherein sat an old woman scraping intes-
tines. " Well, little mother, what may you be doing ? " said the girl.
" I am scraping intestines, my child ; to-morrow, I will scrape yours
for you." Thereupon the girl was so terrified that she let the
key which she was holding in her hand fall into a basin full of
blood, which it was not easy to wash ofl" again. " Now," said
the old woman, " Your death is certain, because my lord will see
by that key that you have been in this chamber, into which no
one is permitied to enter except himself and me." Then the old

* This recals the well-known song of the dead rider, which in the
Norwegian popular rhyme runs, "maanen skine, demand grine, varte du
ikke rad (^Idunna, 1812, p. 60). Compare Altdeutsche Blatter, i. 194.

NOTES. — TALE 47. 397

woman perceived that at this very moment a cart of hay was going
to be driven away from the castle, and said, " If thou wonld'st
save thy Hfe, hide thyself in the hay, and then thou wilt be driven
away with it." This she did, and got safely out. AVhen the lord
came home however, he asked for the girl. " 0," said the old
woman, "I had no more work, and as it had to be done to-
morrow anyhow, I killed her at once ; here is a lock of her hair
and her heart, and there too is some blood which is still warm ; the
dogs have eaten all the rest of her, but I am still cleaning her
intestines." So he was satisfied, and believed that the girl was
dead. She had, however, arrived at a castle to whose owner the
cart of hay had been sold. She sprang out, and told the
lord of the castle all that had happened. He asked her to stay
there, and after some time gave a feast to the noblemen of the
neighbourhood, and the lord of the murder-castle was invited too.
The girl was forced to seat herself at table, but her face and dress
were so changed that she was not recognizable. When they were
all sitting together every one was to tell a story, and when it was
the maiden's turn, she related her own. During this the lord of
the murder-castle became so very uneasy that he wished to force
his way out, but the lord of the castle had him seized and bound.
Then he was executed, his murder-castle was pulled down, and
the maiden received his treasures. She married the son of the
lord of the castle where she had taken refuge, and lived to an old
age. In Swedish, compare a popular ballad in Geyer and Afzelius
(3. 94.) In Asbjornsen (p. 237) there is a Norwesian tale. In
The Thousand and One Nights, in the Story of the third Kalender
(Night 66), the prohibition against entering a certain room in
a palace hkewise appears, and disregard of it is punished.

47. — The Ju>;iper Tree.

Written doAvn by Eunge from oral tradition. According
to a story from the Pfalz, communicated to us by Mone, the
little sister is placed by the mother near the pan in which the
murdered brother is to be cooked. She is strictly forbidden to look
inside it, but as the pan is boiling so furiously she just uncovers it,
on which the little brother stretches out his hand to her. There-
upon she is seized with terror and instantly covers it, but weeps
over what she has seen. When her father's dinner is quite cooked,
she has to carry it out into the vineyard to him. She collects the
bones and buries them under a wild juniper. Others relate that
she threaded them and hung them up in the loft. Then the little
brother is changed into a bird, and pipes

" My mother slew me, and I died,
My sister carried me outside,

398 grimm's household tales

My father did eat me,
And yet I'm still here,
Kiwitt, kiwitt."j

The story is likewise told in the Pfalz with another beginning ;
the stepmother one day sends the two children into the wood to
seek strawberries, and the one who comes home first is to have an
apple. Then the little boy ties the little girl to a tree and comes
back first, but the mother will not give him anything until he has
brought his little sister home. The story is common in Hesse, but
is seldom told so circumstantially, the only addition that we derive
from thence is that the little sister strings together the bones on a
red silken thread. The verse runs,

* My mother she boiled me.
My father he ate me,

My little sister sat under the table,
Picked up all my little bones.
Threw them over the pear-tree
And then a little bird came out
That sings both day and night."

In a Swabian story, otherwise incomplete, Meier, No. 2, we find,

* Chirp, chirp.

What a pretty little bird am I!
My mother she cooked me.
My father he ate me ! "

There is a passage in Goethe's Faust, p. 225, which our story will
help to explain, and which the poet unquestionably took from
ancient oral tradition.

"Meine Mutter die Hur,
die mich umgebracht hat,
mein Vate)" der Schelm
der mich gessen hat,
mein Schwesterlein klein
hub auf die Bein '

an einem kiihlen Ort,
da ward ich schones Waldvogelein
fliege fort, fliege fort ! "

The story is indigenous in the south of France, in Languedoc and
Provence, and its details do not differ from the German one. The
bird sings,

" ma maratre,
pique patre,
m'a fait bouillir
et rebouillir.

NOTES. — TALE 47. 399

mon pere

le laboureur

m'a mange

et ronge.

ma jeune soeur

la Lisette,

m'a pleure

et soupire :

sous un arbre

m'a enterre,

riou, tsiou, tsiou !

je suis encore eu vie.**

Feuilleton da Globe, 1830.
No. 146 by C. S.

That the saga is also current in Scotland is proved by the follow-
ing rhyme, which Leyden has preserved from a nursery tale. The
spirit of a child, in the form of a bird, whistles the following verse
to its father :

" Pew wew, pew wew (pipi, wiwi),
My minny me slew."

with which the remarks, by Albert Hofer in the Blatter fur Uterarische
Unterhaltung, 1849, No. 199, should be compared. Lastly, the
Bechuanas in South Africa have a kindred story.

Marleenken is Marianchen, Marie Annchen ; Machandel * is
perhaps not Almond (Mandel) but Wacholder (juniper), and very
important, as it is a tree which rejuvenates, and is awake so far as
is imphed by quick, active, vivus, living. In other places it is
called Queckholder, Keckholder, Juniperus (from junior, younger)
Anglo-Saxon, Quicbeam.f The wicked stepmother (an old proverb
says, " The Devil is lined with stepmothers ") is to be found in many
other stories. The beginning where the mother cuts her finger reminds
us of Snoiu-ivliite, and of a remarkable passage in Farzival, which is
explained in Altd. Wdlder, 1, 1-30. The gathering the bones together
occurs in the myth of Osiris and Orpheus, and also in the legend of
Adalbert ; the bringing to life again, in many others, viz., in the story
of Brother Lustig (No. 81) ; in Fitclier's Vogel (No. 46) in the old

* In Diefenbach's ffoch und Niederdeutsches Worterbwh, under
* Machandelbaum,' we find :

" Machandelbaum, Machandelenbaum, Magand . . . Scabiua.

'' Machandelbeere, Magandelenbeeren, arciotida = Wacholderbeere
Yermittelude Form : wachanderenberen, Juniperus." — Tr.

f Quicbeam, or cwicbeam, is, however, not the juniper, but the wild,
or mountain-ash, a tree whose berries were also said to have possessed
rejuvenating power, and a sprig of which, carried about or placed above
house or barn doors, was said to " hinder witches of their will." Hence
lis common name, " witchwood." — Tli.

400 gkimm's household tales.

Danish ballad Marihoquelle ; in t^ie German saga Das ertrurikene
Kind (1. St. 62), illusively in Pfaffe Amis ; in the Negro story of
Nanni, who is taught by her mother to eat the flesh of a young
chicken, and put its hones and feathers together again. Zeus
restores life to the bones of the child which has been eaten, and
replaces with ivorv the shoulder-blade which Demeter has eaten.
See Gruber's Mytliological Dictionary, 3. 377. Thor collects the
bones of the buck which has been eaten, and brings them back to
life by shaking them (Ddmesage, 38). Other stories need not be
mentioned. The punishment of a mill-stone falling on the head
from above the door is found in the Edda in the story of the two
dwarfs, Fialar and Galar (Copenhagen edition, p. 84). Compare
No. 90.

[A Devonshire story The Rose-tree, which is allied to this, is
given by Mr. Henderson in his Folklore of the Northern Counties.
London, 1866. Tor Almond-tree birth refer to Pausanias, YII. 17.
— Tb.]

48. — Old Sultan.

From two stories which complete each other, one from Lower
Hesse, the other from the district of Paderborn. In the latter it
is the fox and the bear which are about to have a combat, and
the story opens with the tale, so well known from the Beinecke Vos,
of the fox lurin2; the bear to the honey, and shutting him fast in a
tree. The latter then demands to be set free that he may revenge
himself. According to a third story, likewise from the region of
Pad *rb')rn, the fox has the ddg and the bee as well as the cat to
support him. The bee gets into the ear of the swine which is on
the side of the bear, and stings it ; the cat catches a mouse and
throws it into the bear's open mouth, it bites his tongue, and the
two run screaming away. On the second day they arrange that
whichsoever of them can first run up a mountain, shall be lord of
the others. The fox has a brother who resembles him so much that
they cannot be distinguished from each other ; he sends him on in
front (as in The Hedgehog and his Wife, No. 187), and then begins
the race at the same time as the bear, but remains behind
intentionally and conceals himself. When the bear reaches the top
the fox is there, and the bear thinks that it is the right fox, and
cries angrily, " I wish the storm would overwhelm me." A youth is,
however, silting in the very tree under which the bear is standing,
who has fled thither to escape when he saw the animals running
towards him, and in his terror he lets his axe fall, and it hits the
bear's head and kills him. This incident occurs likewise in a story
from Transylvania ; see Haltrich, No. 14 and No. 34. In a fourth
story also from the district of Paderborn a discourse is inter-
woven in which the bear describes his meeting with a hunts-

NOTES. — TALE 49. 401

man (compare No. 72) : " I met a man who made a long, long
nose at me (aimed his gun) and spat fire out of it, and black seeds
in my lace ; then I rushed at him, but he pulled a white rib out of
his side which was sharp, and struck me on the paws, but I broke
it in two, and then he fetched out a black rib (the scabbard), but I
contrived to get away." In Wendish, see TJie War of the Wolf and
the Fox (No. 8) in Haupt and Schmaler. In Servian, see Reinhart
Fuchsy ccxciv. In Esthonian, the same, cclxxxv. The story of The
Fox and Horse (No. 32) is allied to this, and so is the Willow Wren
and the Bear, (No. 102). Also The War of the Wasps and the Ass,
in Barachja Nikdani, in "Wolfs Zeitschrift, 1. 1, 2; and lastly, Der
kleine Kndpzagel in Haltrich, No. 31. A story of animals in Lass-
berg's Liedersaal, 1, 291, should also be compared, and the eleventh
extravaganza, The Wolf and the Hungry Dog^ in Steinhowel
(1487), pp. 56, 57.

49.— The Six Swans.

From Hesse. It is connected with the story of the Seven Ravens
(No. 25), only here we have six swans, because the children have
been bewitched when perfectly innocent. Another story from
German Bohemia links the two stories together. It agrees with
the former up to the point where the sister went out into the world
with a loaf of bread and a small pitcher of water to S( ek her
brothers. Then it is related that she wandered on day after day for
many a mile, and never found the least trace of them, but came at
length to an ancient deserted castle, and thought that she might
perhaps find something there. But no human being was to be seen in
the castle, and yet she saw smoke ascending, and heard a fire crackling.
" Where smoke is rising and fire burning, human beings must be
living too," thought she, and went onwards. At last she reached a
kitchen where seven pans were standing on the hearth, frothing and
bubbling up, but no cook was there. "Eh, what is being cooked
here ? " said the girl, and peeped into the pans, and strange roots and
herbs were inside them. " How good these must taste ! " said she,
and tasted a little bit out of each, and stirred them round
thoroughly. She liked cooking, which she had not done for a
long time, and the morsel of warm food did her good too, for it
was long since she had tasted any. And now she heard a rustling
in the air, and seven black ravens came whirring down through the
chimney ; each laid hold of his little pan and flew with it into the
dining-room and began to eat his dinner. The first raven had just
eaten a couple of mouthfuls when he said, "It is strange! There
is rather less of my food than there ought to be, but it tastes as if
it had been cooked by a human hand." " It is the same with
mine ! " said the second, " What if our little sister should be here ? "
" Ah ! " said the third, " she is the cause of all our misery ; we will

VOL. I. 2 D

402 grimm's household tales.

pick lier eyes out." " What had she to do with it ? " said the fourth
raven. The fifth said, " I would do nothinj; to hurt her." " She
mi^ht perhaps be able to release us," said the sixth, and just as the
seventh was crying, " God gant she may be here," she came in by
the door of the room for she had been listening to the whole con-
versation, and could not find it in her heart to wait any longer, so
great was her sorrow at seeing her dear brothers changed into such
ugly birds. " Do with me even as you will," said she, " I am your
sister with the golden cross ; tell me if I can set you free." " Yen,"
said they, " thou canst still set us free, but it is very difficult." She
said she was ready, and wouhi gladly do anything, no matter what
it was. Then the ravens said, " Fur seven long years thoa must
not say one word on pain of death, and during that time must sew
for each of us a shirt and a handkerchief, and knit us a pair of
stockings, which must not be ready either sooner or later, than the
last day of the seven years. This time can, however, not be passed
by thee here with us, for we might some time chance to do thee an
injury, if the raven nature were to come upon us ; or our companion-
ship might some time lead thee away to speak."

So they searched in the forest for a hollow tree for her, placed her
inside it at the top that she might remain quiet and alone, pro-
cured for her as much flax as was needed, and spinning-gear, and
from time to time carried her some food that she might not perish
of hunger.

Thus passed one year, a second, and still another ; and the good
little sister sat still in the hollow tree, and only moved as much as
was needful to do her spinning. Then it came to pass that the son
of the King to whom the forest belonged, one day commanded a
chase in the forest, and by mistake, a pack of hounds got through
the briars and bushes to a part where no huntsman had ever been
before, and went as far as the hollow tree. There they stood still,
because they scented some living creature, and they snuffed and sto xj
barking round about the tree. The hunters however followed
the sound and came up, but at first couM find no animal that
the hounds could have tracked, because the girl sat so still and
never moved and she had been there such a length of time that
moss had grown all over her, and she was almost like the tree. At
length, however, they distinguished the shape of her body, and
informed their master that a beast in human shape was sitting
in a hollow tree, and neither moved nor uttered any sound. The
I'rmce went up to it, and ordered them to take her oat. She let
them do as they liked, and never spoke. And when they began to
leoiove the moss from her and to clean her, her white face appeared,
and also the cro.>s uion her forehead, so that the Prince was amazed
at her beauty, and jpoke to her in every language that he knew,
that he might learn who she was and how she had got there. But

NOTES. — TALE 49. 403

she remained mute as a fish to all he said, so the Prince took her
home with him, gave her into the care of the women-in-waitiiig,
and bade them wash and dress her, which was done, as he had
commanded. But if she had been beautiful before, now she shone
forth in her rich garments like the bright day, only no word ever
passed her lips. Nevertheless, the Prince placed her by his side at
table, and was so deeply touched by her appearance and gentle
bearing, that in a very few days he wished to marry her, and would
have no other on earth. His mother opposed this marriage
most vehemently, and said that no one knew for certain
whether she was a beast or a human being, for she neither spoke,
nor wished to learn to do so, and such a marriage was nothing
but a crime. But no talking did any good, the King said, " How
can any one doubt that she is a human being ? She has a form
that is as beautiful as an angel's, and the cross upon her forehead
bears witness to her noble origin ? " So the marriage was
solemnized with much splendour and rejoicing.

As the Prince's wife she lived modestly and industriously in her
little chamber, working continually at her spinning-wheel to release
her bi'otbers from the curse which lay on them. After half a year,
just when she was with child, the Prince had to go away to the
wars, and he ordered his mother to take good care of his wife. But
his mother was very glad of his absence, and when the hour of the
Princess's delivery came, and she brought forth a most beautiful
boy, with a cross on his brow like that which she had herself, the
old woman gave the child to a servant and ordered him to carry it
into the forest and murder it, and bring her its tongue as a token
that the deed was done. She wrote a letter to the Prince, in which
it was written that his wife, who must herself be looked on by
every one as half-beast, had as was to be expected, been delivered
of a dog which they had had drowned. Whereupon the Prince
replied that she was nevertheless to be treated as his wife until he
returned home from the wars, and himself determined what was to
be done. In the meantime the servant had gone into the forest with
the little boy, and a lionep,s met him, and he threw the child down
to her thinking she would devour it, and he would not need to kill
it, but the lioness licked it with her tongue. " If a raging
wild beast can feel pity, I am still less able to behave with cruelty,"
thought the servant, and left the child with the lioness, and took
back a dog's tongue to the old Queen. Soon after this the King
returned home from the wars, and when he saw how beautiful his
wile was, he could nut but believe her innocent, nor could he
make her undergo any punishment. Next year she was aaain
expecting to have a child ; and as the Prince was again on the point
of going away, everything happened just as before: the child that
was born was taken to the lioness, and was brought up by her.

2 D 2

404 grimm's household tales.

The aged Princess accused her much more violently, but again the
Prince was convinced of her innocence, although she herself dared
not utter one syllable in her own justification. But when for the
third time all that had happened before occurred again, the Prince
believed that he should fail under the displeasure of God if he con-
tinued to live any longer with a wife who brought beasts into the
world instead of human heirs, so when he came home he commanded
that she should be put to death by fire. Now the day of her execu-
tion was just the very last of the seven years, and as she was putting
in the last stitch she sighed and thought, "Ah Heavens, can the
weary time have come to an end ! " In the selfsame moment her
seven brothers were delivered from the spell, and changed from
ravens to men again, and instantly leapt on seven ready-saddled
horses, and galloped through the forest. In the midst of it they
saw three little boys sitting bes'de a lioness, each with a golden cross
on his forehead. '* Those are the children of our dearest sister," said
they, and took them up on their horses. When they were riding
out of the forest they saw from afar a crowd of people standing, and
the pile of wood burning. They made signals with their
handkerchiefs, and rode on at a gallop. " Dearest sister, how art
thou?" they cried. "Here are thy three children for thee."
She was unbound, and as speech was once more permitted to her,
she thanked God with a loud voice, and the wicked old woman was
burnt to ashes in her stead. Here we see how our story is con-
nected with that of the Seven Eavens (No. 25), and with that of The
Twelve Brothers (No. 9), and how all three belong to the same group,
as does a Bohemian story (see further on). In the Brunswick
Collection^ see pp. 349-379, The Seven Swans. In Kuhn, No 10.
In Sommer, p. 142. In Meier, No. 7. In Asbjornsen, p. 209.
Compare Altdeutsrhe Blatter, 1. 128; and Leo's Beowulf, p. 25,
and following. The story everywhere shows extreme antiquity,
the seven men's shirts seem to be connected with the swan's
shirts, which we know from the Vdlundarquida. In connection
with this there is also the saga of the boat drawn by swans on the
Rhine (Parcifal, Lohengrin, &c.), and the old French Chevalier
au eigne, where also the last swan is not set free because the gold of
its swan's ring is already used up. A ball which unrolls itself, and
shows the way, is also to be found in the Russian ballad in Wladimir^s
Mound TahlCf p. 115.

50. — Bkiak Rose.

From Hesse. The maiden who lies sleeping in a castle surrounded
by a wall of thorns, until the riiiht prince before whom the thorns
give way, sets her free, is the sleeping Briinhild, who, according to
the old Norse saga, is surrounded by a wall of flames through
which no one can iforce his way but Sigurd, who wakens her. The

NOTES. — TALES 51, 52. 405

spindle with which she pricks herself, and which causes her to fall
into this sleep, in the Sleep-thorn with which Odin pierces
Briiuhild : compare Edda Saemundar, 2. 186. In the Pentamerone
(5. 5) it is a bic of the beard of flax. See La belle au hois dormant^
in Perrault. The sleep of Snow-white is similar. Both the Italian
and Freucli stories have the conclusion which is lacking in the
German, but appears in the The luicked Stepmother (see Fragments,
Mo 5). It is remarkable that amidst the considerable variations
between Perrault and Basile (who is the only one who preserves the
beautilul incident of the baby sucking the spike of flax out of its
sleeping mother's finger), both agree as to the proper names of the
children, in so I'ar as the twins in the Pentamerone are called Sun
and Moon; ami in Perrault, Day and Dawn. These names remind
us of those of Day, Sun, and Moon, which also occur in juxta-
position in the genealogy of the Edda.

51. — Foundling.

From the district of Schwalm in Hesse. It is also told that
the cook was the wicked wife of the forester, and the question
and answer are differently given, for inr.tance, " You should just
have p:athered the rose, and the bush would very soon have followed
you." Vossius heard the story in his youth, and gives some fragments
of it in the notes to his ninth Idyll. There is a similar search for
the fugitive in Bolf Krages Sage, chap. 2. In Colshorn, No 69.
The story of Dearest Poland, No 56, is allied to it.

52. — King Thrushbeard.

From three stories current in Hesse and the districts of the Maine
and Paderborn. The last has a different beginning. There is nothing
in it about the King's forcing his proud daughter to marry the first
comer. A handsome musician, however, comes beneath the King's
window. The King summons him upstairs, and his song pleases both
the King and his daughter. The musician stays a long time at court,
and lives opposite the beautiful maiden, so that he can look in at
her window and she into his. Once she sees him touching a little
golden wheel with his fingers whereupon beautiful sounds proceed
from it ; so when he comes asain, she entreats him to bring the
little golden wheel to her, and he has to show her how to play upon
it. She learns, and asks her father to give her also such an
instrument. All the goldsmiths in the kingdom are summoned
too"ether, but not one of them is able to make it. Thereupon the
King's daughter is very sad; and when the musician is aware of
that, he says that if she is inclined to marry him he will give her the
ino'enious bit of work, but she disdainfully refuses. After a while

406 grimm's household tales.

she sees from her window the musician turning a little reel ; and
while he is doing it the most delightful tones resound ; she wants
to see it, and asks to have one like it ; but the goldsmiths are still
less able to produce such a skilful piece of workmanship. And now
the handsome musician offers her the little wheel and the reel if
she will marry him, and, as her longing for both is so great, she sa3'S,
yes. Soon, however, repentance comes, and her pride lets her have
no rest. She wants to retract her promise, but the King forces her
to keep it, and the wedding^ is celebrated. Then the musician
conducts her to the wretched hut in the forest. The rest of the story
a2;reps with ours, and mak^s it more complete. At the ball when
the pan with the food falls down on the ground, she faints with
terror. When she awakes, she is lying in a magnificent bed, and
the handsome musician is a king. A fourth story has the
following peculiarity. The King's daughter made it known that
she would give her hand to him who could guess to what species
of animal a skin which was stretched out with neither a head nor
feet, belonged. It was that of a she-wolf. Thrushbeard learnt
the secret, guessed wrongly with great persistence, and then
came back disguised as a beggar to guess rishtly. Compare No 2.
in Prohle's Kindermdrchen. Also (4. 10) in the Pentameroney
Pride punished ; in Norwegian, Hakon Borkenhart, Asbjornsen,
part 2.

Thrushbeard (Drosselbart) is also called " Crumb-beard " (Brosel-
bart), because the crumbs of bread remain sticking in his beard. A
'•' Brochselhart " appears in a song of Nithard (Benecke's Beitrdgey
p. 291); perhaps it is Brochselhart. The two names are indeed
almost convertible, for in Ulfilas a crumb is called drauhsna ;
we may however also derive Drosselbart from Drossel, Driissel,
Riissel (snout), mouth, nose, or beak, which also would suit the
story.

53. — Snow-white.

From various stories from Hesse, where this sfory is one of the best
known of all, yet even in that district, where High German especially
prevails, the Low German name of Sneewitchen is retained, or even
corrupted into Schliwitchen. In the opening it is like the story of
the Juniper-tree ; and it is still more like it in another story where
the Queen, whilst driving with the King in the sledge, peels an
apple, and cuts her finger while doing it. Another beginning of
the story is this. A Count and Countess were driving past three
heaps of white snow, and the Count said, " How I wish I had a girl
as white as this snow! " Soon they came to three pits filled with
red blood, and again he spoke, and said, "I wish I had a girl with
cheeks as red as this blood." Finally, three black ravens flew by,
and he wished for "a girl with hair as black as those ravens."

NOTES. — TALE 53. 107

When they had driven a little farther they met a girl white as
snow, red as blood, and with hair as black as the ravens, and this
was Snow-white. The Count at once made her come into the
carriage and loved her, but the Countess did not, and thought
of nothing but how to get rid of her. At last she let her
glove fall out and commanded Snow-white to find it again, but in the
meantime made the coachman drive quickly away. And now
Snow-white was alone and came to the dwarfs, &c. In a third
story the only variation is that the Queen drives with Snow-
white into the forest, and asks "her to gather a nosegay ot the
beautilul roses there, and while she is doing it, drives away
and leaves her alone. In a fourth, it is narrated that after Snow-
white's death she is to be burnt by the dwarfs. They
wrap her in a sheet, make a pile of wood under a tree, and
suspend her over it by cords. Just as they are cioing to light the
fire, the Prince comes, who has her taken down, and carries her
away with him in his carriage. The motion of the carriage makes
the bit of poisoned apple jump out of her throat and she comes to
life. A fifih story has the following variations. A certain King
loses his wife, by whom he has an only daughter, named Snow-
white, and he takes another by whom he has three daughters.
She, too, hates her step-child because of her wondrous beauty, and
ill-treats her whenever she can. In a cave in the forest dwell seven
dwarfs who kill every maiden who approaches them. The Queen
knows this, and as she does not wish to kill Snow-whte by
direct means, she ho^Des to get rid of her by taking her to the
entrance of their cave, and saying, " Go in there, and wait till I
come back." Then she goes away and Snow-white fearlessly enters
the cave. The dwarfs come and at first want to kill her, but as
she is so beautiful, they let her live, and tell her that in return for
this, she must keep house for them. Snow-white, however, has a
dos called " Mirror," and now she is gone, it stays in the castle, and is
full of grief. The Queen asks it,

" Mirror, mirror beneath the bench,
Look in this land, look in that land,
Who is the fairest in Engelland ? "

The dog answers, " Snow-white with her seven dwarfs is much
more beautiful than my lady Queen with her three daughters."
Thus she becomes aware that Snow-white is still living, and makes a
poisoned stay-lace. With this she goes to the cave and calls to
Snow-white that she is to open the door to her. Snow-white will
not do it, because the seven dwarfs have strictly forbidden her to let
in any human being, and certainly not the stepmother, who has tried
to destroy her. The Queen however tells Snow-white that she has no
daughters now, for a knight has robbed her of them, and that she

408 grimm's household tales.

would like to live with lier and dress her prettily. Snow-white
pities her and lets her in, and then the Queen laces her with the
poisoned stay-lace, and she falls down dead, whereupon the Queen
goes away. But the seven dwarfs come and take a knife and cut the
stay-lace in two, and Snow-white returns to life again. And now the
Queen questions Mirror (the dog) under the bench, and it gives her
the same answer. Then she makes a poisoned hair-ribbon, and goes
with it, and speaks so movingly to Snow-white, that she again lets
her in. The Queen binds the ribbon round Snow-white's hair, and
she falls down dead. But the seven dwarfs see what has happened,
cut off the hair-ribbon, and she is restored to life. The Queen
questions the dog the third time, and receives the same answer.
And now she goes with a poisoned apple, and in spite of all the
warnings which Snow-white has had from the dwarfs, she is touched
by her lamentations, opens the door, and eats some of the apple.
Then she dies, and when the dwarfs come they can do nothing for
her, and " Mirror," under the bench, tells the Queen that she is now
the most beautiful. But the seven dwarfs make a silver coflBn, put
Snow-white into it, and place it on a tree in front of their cave. A
Prince comes by, and asks the dwarfs to give him the coffin, and
takes it with him, and when he gets home has her laid upon a bed
and dressed as if she were alive, and loves her above measure. A
servant has to wait on her continually ; but one day he gets
angry at having do to this, and says, " The dead maiden is just to
be treated as if she were a living one," and gives her a blow on her
back, on which the piece of apple comes out of her mouth, and
Snow-white is once more alive. A Viennese version of this story
gives the following incidents. There are three sisters ; Snow-white
is the prettiest and youngest. The other two hate her, and send
her out into the world with a loaf of bread and a pitcher of water.
Snow-white comes to the glass mountain, and keeps house for the
dwarfs. And now, when the two sisters ask the mirror who is the
fairest, it answers,

"The fairest is on the Glass mountain,
And she dwells with the little dwarfs."

They send some one thither to poison Snow-white. See Richilda
in Musaus, where the rhyme runs thus :

" ^lirror white, mirror bright,
Mirror, let me have a sight,
Of the fairest girl in Brabant ! '*

It is also a genuine incident that, in the end, the dwarfs make
steel slippers, heat them till they are red-hot, and put them on the
feet of the stepmother, who is forced to dance in them until the fl\)or

NOTES.— TALE 54. 409

smokes. InWallacliian, see IZ^eilfa^rz'cifiVror, Schott, No.6. lathe
Pentamerone, the Kitchen-Tnaid (2. 8).

There is a remarkable unison between this story and a Norse
one, which has already become almost an historical saga. Snafridr, a
most beautiful woman (qveana friduzt), wife of Harald Harfager, dies,
" and her countenance was not in the slightest degree altered, but she
was just as rosy as if still in lite. The King sat by the corpse and
thought she would return to life, and thus he sat for three years."
{Haraldssaga, chap. 25 ; Eeimskringla, 1. 102). For the drops of
blood upon the snow, compare the preface to Liebrecht's Translation
of the Pentamerone, xxi. xxiii. The punishment of having to dance
till dead occurs also in a Danish popular saga (Thiele, 1. 130),
and the seven gold mountains in a Swedish popular song, in
Geyer, 3, 72, 74; and in Firdusi (Gorres, 1. 180), there is " on seven
mountains must thou alight, where crowds upon crowds of frightful
Beevs meet thee."

54. — The Knapsack, the Hat, and the Hoen.

From Lower Hesse. Hans Sachs relates a very similar jest,
(2. 4, 114, 115), Nuremberg edition, 2. 4. 227. Kempt, edit,
yt. Peter begs a gift of a trooper, who gives him all that he
asks for, namely, three farthings. In recompense for his kindness,
St. Peter presents him with a couple of wishing-dice. The
trooper goes on his way delighted, and in the evening he sits
down under an oak, throws his dice, wishes for a well-filled table,
and enjoys himself. In the meantime a peasant comes up on an ass,
and says that he has lodged St. Peter for the night, and in return
for it he has this morning given him this ass, which is full of
troopers ; if anyone strikes it on the tail, a trooper falls down. He,
however, has a dislike to troopers, for in the Bavarian war they
reduced him to poverty. The trooper, on the contrary, is
pleased with the ass ; he offers the peasant his dice for it, and the
exchange is made. The peasant o[oes away with the dice, and the
trooper strikes the ass twice. Two troopers fall out, and with
these he pursues the ppasant and takes back the dice. He repairs
to Sweden, where the fving proclaims that whosoever shall prepare
for him a royal supper without using coal, wood, or fire, shall in
return for it have his daughter to wife. The trooper easily accom-
plishes it with his dice, bat the King refuses to keep his word.
The trooper secretly takes his ass away ; the King hastens after him
with all his court, but the trooper strikes the ass with his fist
until a whole company or more of troopers stands before him.
Then he throws the dice and wishes for a wall round about them.
The King becomes alarmed, and gives him his daughter. The
trooper prepares the wedding in the most exquisite manner, but

410 grimm's household tales.

the ass eats till it makes itself ill, and finally dies. The trooper
has its skin tanned, stretched over a drum, and as soon as it is
beaten, troopers come running to it.

There is an Austrian story. The Luchy Brothers, Ziska, p. 57. A
Danish one is contained in a people's newspaper, from Copenhagen
(compare Nyerup's Morskabsldsning, p. 234) ; Lykkens flyvende
Fane ; Historie om tre sattige Skraedere, der ved Pillegrimsreise
horn til stor Vaerdighed og Velstand.

Three poor tailors, who earn little by their trade, take leave of
their wives and children, and go out into the world to seek their
fortunes. They come to a desert, where there is a mountain in which
an enchanter dwells. The mountain is covered with flowers and
fruits both in summer and winter, and at mid-day and mid-night these
are turned into the finest silver. The eldest tailor fills his bundle and
all his pockets with the most beautiful silver flowers and fruits,
goes home, throws needle and goose under the table, and becomes
a rich merchant. The two others think, " We can return to the
mountain at any time when we are inclined ; we will seek our luck
farther," and travel onwards. They reach a great iron door which
opens of its own accord after they have knocked thrice. They
enter a garden where there are trees covered with golden ap])les.
The second tailor gathers as many as he can carry away on his
back, takes leave of the other, and returns home. There he, too,
•betakes himself to trade, and becomes a still greater merchant than
the first ; indeed it is believed that the rich Jew in Hamburg is
descended from him. But the third thinks to himself, " The
garden with the gulden apples will always be there for me, I
will try m}'' chance a little longer." He wanders about the
wilderness, and when he seeks the garden and the silver
mountain again, cannot find them. At last he comes to a great
hill, and hears some one playing on a pipe. He goes nearer and
finds an old witch, who is piping to a flock of geese, which beat
their wings at the sounds, and dance backwards and forwards in front
of the old woman. She has already been struggling with Death on
this hill for ninety-four years, and cannot die until the geese
dance themselves dead, or some Christian comes and kills her
with his weapons. As soon as she hears his footsteps, and he is
near enough fcr her to see him, she entreats him, if he is a Christian,
to kill her with the club which is lying by her side. The tailor
will not do it until she tells him that he will find a cloth beneath
her head on which, whenever he desires it, a dainty repast will stand,
if he does but say a couple of words. So he gives her a blow on
the skull, and seeks and finds the cloth, packs it up immediately
in his bundle, and sets out homewards. A trooper meets him and
asks him for a piece of bread. The tailor says, " Deliver up thine
arms to me, and I will share with thee." The trooper who has

NOTES. — TALE 54. 411

spent all his powder and shot in the war, does that readily, and the
tailor spreads his cloth, and treats the hungry warrior. The latter
is much pleas^i with the cloth, and offers the tailor in exchange
for it his wonderful cartridge-pouch, from which when anyone
taps it on one side, a hundred thousand men on horse and foot
come out, and if it is tapped on the other side all kinds of
musicians. The tailor consents ; but when he gets the cartridge-
pouch, he demands ten horsemen who have to gallop after the trooper,
and get the cloth back from him. And now the tailor reaches
home, and his wife is surprised that he has gained so little during
his travels. He goes to his former comrades, who give him such
large help that he would have been able to live on it for some time
with his wife and child. He, however, invites his comrades to
dinner, and begs them not to be too proud to come, and not to despise
him when they do. They reproach him with wanting to squander all
he has at once, but promise to come. When they arrive at the ap-
pointed time, no one is at home but the wife who knows nothing of any
guests being expected, and fears that her husband has lost his head.
But the tailor comes, and bids his wife to make haste and
clean the room. He greets his guests, aiid begs them to excuse
him ; he knows they have everything better at their own houses,
but he has been anxious to see if their riches have made them proud.
They seat themselves at the table, but no dish makes its appear-
ance. Then the tailor spreads his cloth, says his words, and in an
instant the table is covered with the most damty food. " Ha ! ha ! "
think the others. " Is this how it is ? Then thou art not so ill
off by half as thou wouldst appear," and they swear to love him
like brothers until the day of his death. Their host tells them
they have no need to give him such assurances, and strikes his
cartridge-pouch on one side, and immediatcl}' musicians come and
make music which is delightful to hear. Then he strikes it on
the other side, and bids a hundred thousand soldiers and artillery
come forth, and they throw up a wall and carry up pieces of
ordnance, and whenever the three tailors drink, they discharge the
guns. The Prince dwells four miles away, and hears the thunder
and thinking the enemy has come, sends out a trumpeter, who
brings back the intelligence that a tailor is keeping his birthday
and making merry with some good Iriends. The Prince goes
thither himself, and the tailor regales him by means of his cloth.
The Prince likes it, and offers the tailor lands and ample independ-
ence for it ; but he refuses; he prefers his cloth, for with it he has no
care, trouble, or vexation. The Prince makes up his mind very
quickly, takes possession of the cloth by force, and goes away.
The tailor puts on his cartridge-pouch, and goes with it to the
Prince's court, but receives a backful of blows. Then he runs on
to the castle wall and bids twenty thousand men come forth and

412 GKIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES.

plant their pieces against the castie and fire on it. Then the Prince
has the cloth brought out, and humbly entreats him to stop the
firing. So the tailor makes his men return to their quarters, goes
home and lives very happily with his two brothers. In Zingerle,
it is The Bag, the Hat, and the Horn, p. 143 ; and with peculiar
variations, The Four Cloths, p. 61. The story of The Long Nose
in Heiurich voq Kleist and Adam Miiller's Phoebus journal,
1808, 6th part, pp. 8-17, is an affected rendering of this. The
conclusion has sume resemblance to Fortunatus, and the whole
story is allied to the story of Out of the sack, cudgel, No. 36 ;
to the Eohher^s cave, in Wolf's Hausmdrchen, p. 116 ; and to a
story in Zingerle, p. 73. In Netherlandish, see Wolf's Wodana^
No. 5. p. 69. In Danish, seeMolbech, No. 37. For a Tartar story,
see Relations of Ssidi Kur. Wallachian, see Schott, No. 54.

55. — RUMPELSTILZCHEN,

From four stories collected in Hesse, which agree with, and in some
particulars, complete each other. In one of them, however, the
conclusion varies in that the Queen does not send out any emissaries
to enquire about strange names ; but on the third day the King
loses himself when he is out hunting, and accidentally listens to what
the mannikin is saying, and hears what he calls himself. A fifth
story begins in the following manner : a bundle of flax was given to
a little girl to spin into yarn, but what she span was always golden
thread, and not flaxen yarn. On this she became very sad and
seated herself on the roof, and span and span, but still never any-
thing but gold. Then a little man came walking by, who said, " I
will help thee out of thy difficulty ; a young prince shall pass by,
and shall take thee away with him, and marry thee, but thou must
promise me thy first child." Afterwards the Queen's maid goes
out and sees the little man riding round the fire on a ladle,
and hears his name. When Rumpelstilzchen sees that his secret
is discovered, he flies out of the window on the ladle. Besides this,
a sixth variant from Hesse may be named, in which nothing is
said about spinning. A woman is walking past a garden wherein
beautiM cherries are hanging ; longs for some of them, and climbs
in and eat some ; but a black man comes out of the earth, and for
this theft she is forced to promise him her child. When it is born,
he forces his way through all the guards who have been set by her
husband, and will only consent to leave the woman the child, if she
can get to know his name. Then the husband follows him and
sees him clamber into a cave, which is hung on all sides with ladles,
and hears him call himself Flederflitz. See the Little Staff in
Carol. Stahl's Stories, p. 85. In Miillenhnflf, No 8, the mannikin
is called Riimpentrumper. In Kletke's Mdrchensaal^ No. 3, he is

NOTES. — TALE 55. 413

Hopfenhiitel, In Zingerle, No. 3G, and Kiigerl, p. 278, Purzinigele.
In Preble's Kindermdrchen, No. 23, and in Pechstcin's Mdrchenfur
die Jugend, No. 20, he is Hipche, Hi})che. Compare Colshorn, p. 83.
In ISwedish see Cavallius, p. 210. Fischart can prove the age of
this story, for in Garganfua (chap. 25), wliere a list of games is to
be found (under No. 363), there is a game called " Rumpelestilt, or the
Poppart." Now people also say " Kumpen.stinzchen." Gnomes bear
names which are not in use among men, so the mannikin
believed himself quite safe when he imposed the condition that his
name should be discovered. A being of the same kind (MiillenhofPs
Sagen, pp. 30(3 and 578) is called Knirrsicker and Hans Donnerstag,
and betrays himself in the same way. A similar story to ours is inter-
woven with D'Aulnoy's White Cat, No. 19. The French Biidin-
ricdon in the Dark Tower, by Mile. I'Heritier from which is printed
a Danish rendering, en smuk Historie om Rosanie . . . tjent ved
Fandens Hielp for Spindejpige. Nyerup, Morskahsldsning, p. 173,
also belongs to this group.

Millers and miller's daughters appear in numbers of G-erman
stories ; this we are speaking of reminds us strangely of the Northern
Fenia and Menia, who could grind whatsoever was wanted, and who
were ordered by King Frode to grind peace and gold. The
spinning gold may also refer to the difficult and painful work of
preparing gold-wire which is left to poor girls. Thus in the ancient
Danish song, Kdmpe Vistr, p. 165, verse 24:

*♦ Nu er min Sorg saa mangefold,*
Som Jongfruer de spinde Guld."

Compare Wolfdietrich, Str. 89, and Iwein, 6186-6198.

The task of guessing a name occurs also in a Danish saga. (Thiele, 1.
45) where a certain man, in return for services performed, has to give
his heart and his eyes to a trold if he cannot get to know his
name. He listens however to the trold's wife when she is com-
forting her child, and saying, "To-morrow thy father will come,"
and at the same time says his name. Besides this there is the saga
of Turandot, in The Thousand and one days. Calaf has guessed all
her riddles, but will renounce his rights, if she can guess his name.
One of her maids goes cunningly to him and tells him of Turandot's
horrible inhumanity, who is going to have him murdered because
she cannot guess his riddle. Then he imprudently cries, " Oh,
unhappy son of Timurtas, oh Calaf worthy of pity ! " Thus
Turandot learns his name. A Swedish popular Story of St. Olaf
turns upon discovering the name of a spirit in this way. See
Grater's Iduna, 3. 60, 61. The incident of demanding the child
enters into a great number of myths.

♦ *' Now my sorrows are manifold,

For I'm a maiden who spins gold."

414 Grimm's household tales.

56. — Dearest Roland.

From Hesse. In another saga, whicli also comes from Hesse, this
story is allied to Hansel and Grethel, No. 15. The witch wants to
kill and cook Hansel because he is fat, but Grethel sets him free,
and the children run away, but before going, Grethel spits in front
of the hearth. So when the witch cries, " Will the water soon be
hot ? " the spittle answers, " I am just fetching it," and afterwards
" It's boiling now," and " 1 am just bringing it," and between each
answer the witch sleeps awhile. The last time she calls, however,when
the spittle has dried up, >-he receives no answer, and gets out of bed,
and when she cannot find the children, she puts on her skates and
runs after them, but the girl has transformed herself into a pnnd
and her little brother into a duck which is swimming on it. The
witch wants to drink up the pond, but she bursts with the water,
and is left lying dead. The two resume their human form and go home.

Our story is like Fundevogel, No. 51; The Water iVVxiV, No 79.
and The two Kings' children, No. 113. The last metamorphosis,
when the stepmother perishes in the briar-hedge with dancing,
recalls the Jew among Thorns, No. 110. Vossius, in the notes to his
Idyll of Riesenhugel, mentions a story which also has some con-
nection with ours. Der JRiesenwald, pp. 44-72, in the Brunswick
Collection, is also akin to this, and No. 6 in Miillenhoflf; No. 1.
in Kuhn. In Norwegian Asbjornsen, Vf)l. 2. In Swedish Cavallius,
No. 14. In Hungarian, Mailath's Zauberhelene, No. 12; and
the Magic Horse, in Stier p. 28. Also The Glass hatchet in Gaal. p.
53. T/i£ Orange tree and TJie Bee (No. 8) in D'Aulnoy, and The Dove
(2. 7) and Rosella (3. 9) in the Pentamerone, are allied to this. Being
turned to stone by grief and pain occurs also in the Danish ballad of
Kosmer. It has a deep signification and resembles the numbness
which ensues when light and warmth are taken away. Changing
yourself into a flower by the wayside when in sorrow, is an incident
which appears again in a popular song :

" Ai Annie, lot dos Waene stohn
nahnit aich viel liever a'n anden Mon."

"Eh wenn ich lo das Waene stohn,

wiel ich liever outf de Wagschaed gohn,

diett wiel ich zu aner Feldblum w'an.
* * * * * ^

Virmeittich's wiel ich schien uofblihn,
Nochmeit^'chs wiel ich traurich stien ;
wo olle Lait vorieba gohn,
diett wiel ich inde traurich stohn." *

•

*' Ah. Annie, let thy weeping be.
Or talie another love to thee."

NOTES. — TALE 57. 415

This story especially belongs to the class in which an ancient
ground -work seems to survive. The witch is a giant woman who
has captured a couple of the children of the gods and wants to
destroy them. When, according to one saga, the maiden spits and
the spittle answers, we must, perforce, remember that saga in which
earthly shapes are created from the spittle of the gods. But the
bean also, which according to tlie French saga (in D'Aulnoy, No. 8)
is baked into a cake, and in Kuhn, is put into a pan on the fire, and
gives the answer, represents the creative principle, which in our
story is still more clearly expressed by the drops of blood. For the
transformations of the fugitives, who, to save themselves continually
assume another shape, compare the Lyrbiggiasage, t. 20, where
Katla is always changing her son in order to protect him.

57. — The Golden Bird.

From Hesse ; but this story is frequently found here, and also in
Paderborri, where it is told in the older but not better form that a
certain King had become ill (according to others*, blind), and nothing
in the world could cure him, until at last he heard (or dreamed),
that in a far distant place the phcenix was to be found, and by its
piping (or singing) alone could he be cured. And now the sons
set out one after the other ; and the various stories differ from each
ot^her only in the various tasks which the third son has to perform.
The singing of the phoenix, being so necessary, is certainly a better
f <undation. One version also relates that the fox after having at
last been shot, vanishes entirely and does not become a man. Ttie
fall into the well (instead of which a quarry sometimes occurs), is
remarkably allied to the sa^a of Joseph ; the deliverance from it by
the Fox to that of Aristomenes (after Pausanias) ; to Sindbad (in
The 1001 Nights) ; and to Oog and Magog (after Montevilla). The
warning to buy no gallows-flesh is also contained in the Knight of
Thum's Lehre : " In the third place thou shalt beg off no thief or
any other malefactor from death." Agricola's Sprichworter
(Wittenb. 1582), 97. There are other stories like this in the
Erfurt Kindermdrchen ; pp. 94-150; in Wolf's Hausmdrchen, pj).
230-242 ; and in Meier, 5 ; also in Zmgerle, p. 157, but it is weaker

•*0h, if I let mv weeping be

I'd sooner to the wayside go,

And as a humble field-flower grow.
*****

Before the noon I'll blossom fair,
*Fore eve I'll stand so sadly there
When all the folk are passing by,
There will 1 stand so piteouslj." — Tr.

415 grimm's household tales.

in most of the incidents and in other respects. This sasja was,
however, known in the north at an early period, and doubtless in
other parts of Europe also. La Petite Orenouille Verte, the first
story in a French collection written in the beginning of the 18th
century, and reprinted in the Cabinet des Fees, vol. 31 (see
further on), is manifestly related to it. In Slavonian, see the
Witch Corva, No. 1, in Vogl, with which Troldhelene, Molbech,
No. 72, should be compared. In Wallachian, see Schott, No. 26.
From the Bukowina, by Staufe, in Wolf's Zeitschrift, 2. 389. It
appears to be also told in Poland (see further on). Perinskjbld,
in his catalogue made for Hickes, p. 315, mentions the saga " af
Artus fagra,'^ and describes its contents thus : " Hist, de tribus
fratribus Carolo, Vilhialmo atque Arturo, cogn. fagra, regis Anglian
filiis, qui ad inquirendum Phonicem, ut ea curaretur morbus
immedicabilis patris illorum, in ultimas usque Indies oras missi
sunt." Perhaps some allusion is also made to it in an Anglo-Saxon
Codex, of which Mauley gives a sketch, p. 281, book vi. " Septem
constanscapitulis,descriptionem tractat felicissimas cujusdam regionis
orientalis et de Phonice qure ibi invenitur." A later Danish treat-
ment in strophes of six lines has become a popular book, but has no
poetical value. Nyerup treats of it (MorJcahslcisning, pp. 226-230).
An edition is lying before us bearing the same title given there : it
varies a little, and nothing is said of its being a translation from the
Dutch, which is, indeed, only an assertion. "En meget markvardig
Historic om Kong Edvard af Engelland, der faldt i en svar Sygdom,
men helbrededes ved en viis Qvindes Eaad, og det ene ved bans yngste
Sons Prins Atti (Arti) Oemhed og Mod, der havde sin Fader saa
kjer, at han foretog en Eeise til Dronningen af Arabien, tilvendte
sig ved List hendes Klenodier, bortforde Dronningens dyrebare Fugl
Phonix, og sik til Slutning. . . . Dronningen.'selv tilagte." Here too
the sons are called Carl, Wilhelm and Arthur; nothing is said about
the helpful fox, and in almost every respect the German popular
story is much superior. There is a Danish story from oral tradition-
in Etlar, p. 1. We have likewise heard the b' ginning in the following
form as a part of the story of Dummling. In front of a King's
palace stood a very large pear-tree, which every year bore the most
beautiful fruit; but as soon as it ripened it was always carried
away in one night, and no one knew who had done it. The King
had three sons, and the youngest was called Dummling (Simpleton).
The eldest was to watch the tree for one year, which he did most
diligently, and the boughs were laden with fruit ; but during the
last night, and just as they were going to be gathered next day;
he was surprised by sleep, and when he awoke every pear was gone,
and nothing left but leaves. The second son also watched for a
year, but he had no better success than the eldest ; during the last
night all the pears disappeared. At length it was Dummling*s

NOTES. — TALES 58, 59. 41T

turn, and during the decisive night he guarded himself against
sleep, and saw a white pigeon fly thither which picked (ff one
pear after the other and flew aw ay with it. As it was flying away
with the last, Dummling followed, and the pigeon flew into a cleft
in the rocks in a high mountain. Dummling looked round and saw
a little grey man standing by him, to whom he said," God bless thee!"
The little man replied, " God has blessed me already, for by thy words
I am delivered." Then he told Dummling to descend into the cleit,
and he would find fortune. He descended and saw the white pigeon
caught in a spider's web. As soon as she perceived him, she
tore herself loose, and when the last thread was rent asunder, a
beautiful maiden stood before him, who was a princess, whom
he had likewise set free. Thereupon they married each other.

[Another variant is to be found in Rae's White Sea Peninsula.
See the story of Kuobhd the Giant, and the Devil. — Te.]

58. — The Dog and the Spakrow.

From three slightly differing stories, the most perfect of which is
from Zwehrn, and forms the groundwork of this. The second, like-
wise from Hesse, has a difierent beginning. A hind had given
birth to a young deer, and asked the fox to stand godfather. The
fox invited the sparrow as well, and the latter wished to invite
the house-dog, who was his especially dear friend. Ihe dog
however had been tied up with a rope by his master, because once
after a wedding he had come back to the house drunk. So now
the sparrow pecked out one thread of the rope after another, until
the dog was released ; but at the christening-feast he again forgot
himself, was overcome by wine, reeled home, and remained lying
in the street. And now came the waggoner, who scoffed at the
sparrow's warning, drove over the dog, and killed him. The third
story, which is from Gottingen, has no introduction at all. It only
says that a bird and a dog go out together, and on the great high-
way come to a deep rut which the dog cannot get over as the bird
does, and, as just then a waggoner with some casks of wine comes
driving up, the bird entreats him to help the dog over ; he, however,
does not trouble himself about it, but drives over the poor beast and
kills him. Then the bird avenges him. The end of our story is
taken from the second Hessian one. An ancient German poem
which is allied to this story is given in Beinhart Fuchs, p. 290, but
is derived from the French Renart — compare cxciii. An Esthonian
animal story which is also given in Beinhart FuchSy cclxxxiv., is
related to our story.

59. — Frederick and Catharine.

At the basis of this lies a story from Zwehrn, but the incidents of
Catharine compassionately using the butter lor the road, and letting
VOL. I. 2 E

418 grimm's household tales.

the cheeses roll away, form part of another from Hesse. The
jest of the counters and the earthenware pots, occurs in a third
story from Fritzlar. In that from Zwehrn the man gives out that
he has buried a hare-skin under the cow's manger. Catharine bids
the pedlars take this up, whereupon they find the treasure. She
hangs the pots which she has bought round about her house on the
nails which are sticking in it. A fourth story, from the neighbour-
hood of Diemel, has various pecuHarities. The man goes to his
work in the fields, and says to his wife, "Put some meat among the
cabbage, and when it is ready bring it out into the field to me."
She takes the raw meat, carries it into the field where her cab-
bages are growing, and puts it among them. The dog soon scents
it out, and carries off the meat ; she runs after him, catches him, and
as a punishment, ties him up at home to the beer-barrel in the cellar,
and indeed to the tap. The dog becomes wild and impatient, and
puSls the tap out. When the woman comes into the cellar all the
beer is swimming about it. Then she dries it up with the flour. She
takes with her some vinegar and dried pears, and, in order to secure
the house, takes the door off its hinges, puts it on her back, and
goes out. Her husband reproaches her for bringing such bad food,
but they sit down to eat it. Then they see twelve robbers coming.
In their terror they climb up a tree, and, that they may not be dis-
covered, take the food and the door tip with them. The robbers
come and sit down immediately below them, and begin to divide six
bags of gold. They are however, as in our story, frightened away,
and the man and his wife drag the bags home. The woman borrows
a measure of her neighbour to measure the gold in, and one piece of
gold is left sticking in it, which makes the latter suspicious. So the
w^oman tells everything that has happened. And now every one
goes into the forest to get gold, but none return, fur no one was so
stupid as the woman, and the robbers killed all who ventured to
show themselves in the forest. The man and the foolish woman lived
very happil^'^and free from all care till their death. There is another
story in Colshorn, No. 37. In Norwegian in Asbjornsen, p. 202.
The incident of thi owing down the door on the rascals is to be found
in Kuhn and Schwartz, No. 13. VardieUo, in the Pentamerone (1. 4),
and No. 49 in Morlini, are in some deeree allied to this. Two
Slavonian stories in Vogl — The Master Liar, pp. 64-65, and
JIans at School, p. 83, where stupid things of another kind are
done — should be compared with this.

60. — The Two Brothers.

For the main lines of our story we are indebted to one from Pader-
"born, which is the simplest and most natural. The beginning of
this has also been told us in Hesse as a fragment, and with some

NOTES. — TALE 60. 419

Variations. There we have only two poor orphan broom-maker's
boys, who have a little sister to support as well as themselves. The
youngest discovers the bird with the golden egg, and sells the egg to
a goldsmith. For some time the boy finds an egg every morning,
until at last the bird tells him to take him to the goldsmith.
The bird sings to the goldsmith that whosoever eats his heart shall
be king, and whosoever eats his liver shall every morning find a
purse of gold under his pillow. And now the goldsmith is willing
to marry the little sister of the poor boys if they will give him the
bird. At the wedding however, for which the bird is roasted, the
two brothers, who are turning the spit in the kitchen, eat two little
bits which have fallen off, and which, though they do not know it,
are the heart and liver of the bird. 1 hen, full of anger, the deceived
goldsmith drives them out of his house. This part of the story is
told with peculiar refinement in a Servian story in Wuk, No. 26 ;
and the Kussian story in Dietrich, No. 9, should likewise be com-
pared. From the point where the expelled children reach the
forester in the wood we have followed an excellent story, full of
details, from the district of Schwalm in Hesse, compared with
which that from Paderborn is only a meagre summary. This
latter begins only with the incident of the torester having taken
into his house two poor children who were begging at his door.

Our story is also told with another remarkable beginning. A
certain king hf)s a daughter who is pursued by mice, until at last
he knows no other means of saving her but having a tower built in
the middle of a great river, to which she is taken. She has one
maid with her, and one day, when they are sittmg together in the
tower, a jet of water springs in through the window. Bhe bids her
maid set a tub, which is filled, whereupon the spring of water
ceases. Both of them drink some cf it, and afterwards each bears a
son, one of whom is called Water- Peter and the other Water-Paul.
They put both of the children in a small chest, write their names
upon it, and let it float down the stream. A fisherman gets it out,
brings up the two boys, who are exactly alike, and has them taught
huntsmanship. The rest of the story is like ours until the marriage
of Water-Peter with a king's daughter ; but it is much more meagre.
Each has only three animals, a bear, a lion, and a wolf. The old
king dies a year afterwards, and Water-Peter receives the kingdom.
One day he goes out hunting, loses sight of his attendants, and at
night rests with his beasts by a fire. An old cat is sitting on a
tree, and asks if she may be allowed to warm herself a little at his
fire. When he sa\ s yes, she gives him three hairs of her fur,- and
begs him to lay one hair on each animal, otherwise she will be
afraid to come. As soon as he has done this the beasts die. The
king is enraged, and is about to kill her, but she says that in that
place there is a spring with the water of death and another with

2 E 2

420 grimm's household tales.

the water of life, and that he is to take some of the latter and
pour it over the animals. He does this, and they come to life again.
When Water-Peter comes home he finds Water-Paul in his place,
and kills him in his jealousy ; but when he hears how faithful he
has been, and that he has always laid a naked sword between him-
self and the queen, he fetches some of the water of life, and restores
him to life. A fourth story from Hesse calls the two brothers John
Water-spring and Caspar Water-spring, and begins thus. A certain
king was firmly resolved that his daughter should not marry, and
had a house built for her in the greatest solitude in a forest ; and
there she had to dwell, and never saw any strange man. Near the
house however rose a wondrous spring of water, of which the
maiden drank, and afterwards bore two boys who exactly resembled
each other, and received those names. The rest of the story con-
tains nothing that is new ; after the combat with the dragon the
defunct John Water-spring is restored to life by the sap of an oak
which the ants were fetching for their dead who had been trampled
down in the struggle. A filth story only says by way of a beginning
that a golden box, in which two beautiful boys are lying, falls down
from heaven into the net which a fisherman has just thrown out.
When they have grown up, they learn huntsmanship. The dragon
is slain by a poisoned seed which the youth throws down his throat.
The princess's betrothed tries to kill the youth by poisoned food,
but his animals discover the treachery. Afterwards'he is turned to
stone by a witch, but the other brother compels her to tell him
the means of restoring him to life again. Under a certain stone
a wicked snake is lying, which is the cause of the whole en-
chantment. This snake he has to hew in pieces, roast them at the
fire, and smear the petrified brother with the fat. On the other
hand a sixth story, from Zwehrn, contains much that is peculiar, but
it lacks this introduction, and has nothing in it about the two
brothers. Three poor sisters support themselves by means of three
goats, which their brother has to take charge of. One day when he
is out he meets a forester with three fine dogs ; and the youth is
delighted with them, and exchanges one of the goats for a dog which
is called " Stop him." When he goes home the sisters are full of
lamentations ; nevertheless he cannot restrain his desire, and next
day exchanges another goat for another dog which is called *' Seize
him," and, on the third day, the third goat for a dog called " Iron
and steel breaker." Then the huntsman gives him a gun, a hanger,
a powder-horn, and a bag, into the bargain, and he goes out into
the world ; and a hare, a deer, and a bear become his servants. He
goes into a forest, and to a small house wherein sits an aged woman.
She says to him, "Do not stay here; this is the dwelling-place of
twelve thieves, who will slay thee." He replies, "I have no fear.
I trust to my animals." Then he places the hare at the window,

NOTES. — TALE 60. 421

the deer and the bear behind the door of the room, and the three
dogs in the stable. The robbers come, pretend to be friendly, and
invite him to eat with them. They sit down to table ; the rubbers
lay their knives with the points turned round towards themselves ; the
huntsman's is laid with the point turned from him, as it ought to
be. The robbers say, "Why do you not lay your knife as we lay
ours ? " "I lay mine like a huntsman, but you lay yours like
thieves ! " They jump up, and are about to kill him, when the hare
knocks at the window, and immediately the deer opens the door, and
the three dogs rush in, and the bear likewise, and tear the twelve
thieves to pieces. Then the youth goes onwards and reaches a
town, which is hung on the first day with white, on the second with
red, and on the third with black cloth. He kills the dragon by
means of his three dogs, goes away for a year and three days, and
then returns and receives the king's daughter. In other respects it
agrees with our story, only here it ends with the wedding and the
deliverance of the three animals. They urgently entreat the youth
to cut off their heads, but for a long time he will not consent to do
it ; when at last he does, the hare is transformed into a beautiful
princess, the deer into a queen, and the bear into a king. This
story occurs in Lino's Story Booh, by A. L. Grimm, pp. 191-311.
The twins are called Grentle Spring and Strong Spring. They are
Peter and Paul in Zingerle, p. 131, where also a second story is given,
p. 260. In 'Prohle's Kindermdrclien, No. 5, we have Luck-hird
and Pitch-bird. In Meier it is Hans and the Princess^ Nos. 29
and 58 ; and there is another version, p. 306. In Wolfs Haus-
mdrchen, p. 369. In Kuhn und Schwartz, No. 10. The story is
widely spread. In India, compare Somadeva, 2, 142. In Danish,
Etlar, p. 18. In Swedish, Cavallius, pp. 78, 85. In Flemish,
the Wodaiia, p. 69. In Hungarian, G-aal, No. 9, and Slier, p. 67.
In Wallachian, Schott, No. 11. I7ie Merchant (1, 7) and The Doe,
(1, 9), in the Pentamerone, also belong to this group, and so does
the third story of the tenth night in Straparola; also the beginning of
TJie Oolden Bird in a French fairy-tale by Count Caylus {Cabinet
des Fees, 24, 267), and in Bohemian, see Tiie Twins, Gerle, 2. 2.
Allied to this are The Gold Children (No. 85), and a Servian story
given by Wuk, No. 29. The Persian saga of Lohrasp in Firdusi
(Gorres, 2, 142) has much affinity with the whole of it.

In this remarkable story two different lines are to be indicated. In
the first place the saga of Sigurd is visible in it. The incident of
putting the newly-born children in the water, with which the other
stories begin, coincides with the tradition in the Wilkinasage, accord-
ing to which Siegfried was laid by his mother in a little glass coffer
that rolled into the river and was carried away (compare the story of
The Golden Mouiitaiii). And now comes the cunning and wicked
goldsmith, the Eeigen of the Norse saga; then the talking-bird^

422 grimm's household tales.

which is so rich in gold, and is at the same time the prophetic bird,
and the worm Fafnir ; and then the eating the creature's heart, which
gives gold and empire (wisdom), which the smith strives to compass
with much cunning, but which Sigurd accomplishes. The instruc-
tioQ in woodcraft corresponds with the instruction which Reigen
gives Sigurd, The faithful serving-animals correspond with the
horse Grane. Then follows the deliverance of the maiden from the
dragon, the maiden being the Kriemhild of the German lay ; in the
Norse it is by leaping over a wall of flames that the hero wins her.

Yet he leaves her, as Sigurd Briinhild. The brother who has
the same form as himself is Gunnar, his brother in arms,
with whom Sigurd also exchanges forms ; even the placing
the swords is there, only in a different connection. Just as the
larger and more powerful beasts always entrust the charge to the
smaller, until at last the responsibility falls on the poor hare, there
is a similar chain of descent, in the more ancient story Touti
Nameh (Kosegarten from Iken, p. 2'11), in which the sea-animals
and monsters always push off a task upon one still smaller, until
at last it is fixed on the frog.

The story also contains the saga of Die Blutsbruder. It is
thoroughly elucidated in our edition of Ber arme Heinrich, pp.
183-197. Both children are born strangely and at the same time.
The token at their separation, of the knife stuck into a tree, corresponds
with the golden cup of Amicus and Amelius. Originally perhaps
it was the knife with which the veins were punctured in order to
drink brothership in arms. Compare the notes to the story of The
Water of Life (No. 97). The one takes the other's place at home
and with his wife, but he separates himself from her in their couch
by a sword. The illness which attacks one of them, and drives him
away from human society, is here the enchantment of the witch, who
turns him to stone, an enchantment from which the other brother
frees him. For this part of the story see The Burning Stag^ in
Colshorn, No. 74. Compare the story of Faithful John, No. 6,
and one from Cornwall. (See further on.) As the one brother
fights against the dragon, Thor in the northern myth (both in the
Voluspd and in the Later Edda) fights against the Mitgard Snake
at the end of the world. He kills it, indeed, but falls dead on the
ground with the poison which the snake has spat out against him.

[Prince Bahman gave Princess Perizade a knife, the blade of
which would inform her of his health ; when it appeared stained with
blood he would be dead. See The Tliousand and One Nights story
of the Three Sisters. — Tr.]

61. — The Little Peasant.

From Zwehrn. Another story, from Hesse, tells of a tailor who
makes his fortune in this manner, but it is less complete. It

NOTES — TALE 61. 423

likewise begins with the tailor finding a benumbed thrush which he
afterwards puts to his ear that it may prophesy to him. When
he is shut up in the chest on the water, he cries out that on
no account will he marry the princess, and thus entices the
shepherd to take his place. According to another story, the man is
called Herr Hands. The peasants hate him because of his cunning,
and in their envy destroy his baking-oven; he, however, carries
away some of the remains of it in a sack to a noble lady, and begs
her to take care of the sack for him, and says that there are spices,
cinnamon, cloves and pepper in it. Then he goes to fetch it away
ajain, and makes a great outcry, and says she has robbed him,
whereby he extorts three hundred thalers from her. The peasants
see the money being counted out to him, and ask how he has come
by it ? He says it is for the remains of the oven. Then all the
peasants destroy their ovens and carry what is left of them to the town,
but fare badly. They want to revenge themselves by killing him ;
he puts on his mother's clothes, and thus escapes, but his mother
is killed. He rolls her in a cask to a doctor, leaves her standing there
a while, and then returns and blames him for killing her, and thus
obtains a sum of money from the doctor. He tells the peasants
that he has got this for his dead mother, on which they all kill
their mothers too. Then comes the incident of the shepherd getting
into the barrel and being drowned in his place, and of the other
peasants all leaping in after him. In the story of Peasant Kibitz^
which Biisching gives (p. 296), there are also some varying features.
Kibitz lets his wife be killed by the peasants, and then sets her up
by some railings with a basketful of fruit, and a servant, who has
been ordered by his master and mistress to buy something from her,
pushes her into the water because she returns no answer. For this
Kibitz receives the carriage in which the master was driving,
together with ail that pertains to it. Obtaining money by mere
clamour is also part of the cunning of Gonella (Flogel's Oescli. der
flofnarren, p. 309). In the people's book, ^^ Rutscliki or the
Burgher of Quarhenquatscli" various incidents from this story are
used, the purchasing the old chest in which the lover is hid for the
cow-hide (p. 10), and the setting up the dead wife. Rutschki puts
some butter on her lap, and sets her by the side of the well, and the
apothecary who wants to buy some, but can obtain no answer from
her, shakes her and pushes her down into it, and for that he has to
pay Rutschki a thousand thalers (pp. ]8, 19). The betrayal of the
shepherd at the end is also quite different. Rutschki is condemned
to death, and is bolted into a clothes-press, and taken out to the
pond; but, as this is frozen over, they leave the press standing^,
and go away to fetch axes to cut a hole in the ice. While they
are absent, Rutschki hears a cattle-dealer going by, and calls out,
" I will not drink any wine ! I will not drink any wine ! I am

424 gkimm's household tales.

not thirsty ! " The cattle-dealer asks what he is doin?. Kutschki
gets him to unbolt the door, and tells him that he has been elected
burgomaster, and is quite willing to accept the appointment, for
very little work and a salary of five hundred thalers go with it, but
that he will on no account comply with the custom that every
burgomaster shall, when he takes office, drink to the dregs a great
glass of Burgundy, because he never drinks any wine at all. He
also says that they have set him out there on the ice in order that
the frost may make him long for a warm draught, but that
all is in vain, for he will not drink it. The cattle-dealer
proposes to exchange his herd for this position, and gets into the
press. Eutschki bolts it. The peasants come and cut a hole, and
let the press down into it. When they are returning, they meet
Rutschki with the cattle, and he tells them that he has found them
at the bottom of the pond, and that it is a beautiful land where
perpetual summer reigns. And now they all plunge into the
water (pp. 22, 23). H. Stahl communicates another version in the
MitternachtUatty 1829, No. 35, 36. The poor peasant is called
Hick, and lives at Lieberhausen in the county of Gimbornneustadt.
His poverty compels him to slaughter his only cow, and he goes to
Cologne to sell its hide. As he is going, it begins to rain, so he
covers himself with the hide, the bloody side being outwards. A
raven lights upon it, and is about to eat. Hick catches it carefully,
and takes it with him into the town. He relates his adventure in
an inn at Cologne. He twitches the raven's tail and makes him
prophesy. The innkeeper buys the prophet at a high price. Hick
tells his neighbours that cows' hides are frightfully dear in Cologne.
The people of Lieberhausen now kill all their cows, and get nothing
by the sale of the hides. Out of revenge they put Hick in a barrel
to roll him into the Rhine, but they stop awhile at an inn on the
shore. Hick cries from the barrel, " I am to go to Cologne to be
bishop," and a shepherd gives him his sheep, and takes his place in
the barrel. Hick drives his flock home, and tells the people of
Lieberhausen that he has found them in the Rhine, and that the
bottom of the river is full of them. Hick advises one of them to
lump into the river, and when he has found the sheep, to come to
the top again and stretch out both arms as a t"ken. They follow
his advice, and when one of them has leaped in, and before drowning
stretches out his arms, they all leap, plump, plump, after him.
Two stories from the Tyrol in Zingerle have many peculiarities, pp.
5 and 419. There is another in Prbhle's MdrchenfiXr die Jugend,
No. 15 ; and two which vary very much in Miillenhoff, Nos. 23 and
24, which repeat the contents of the Latin TJnibos of the 11th
century in the most perfect manner. (Jac. Grimm, Latein. Gedkhte^
p. 354, and notes 382.) The Wallachian story JBakdld, No. 22 in
Schott, is allied with this.

NOTES. — TALE 62. 425

Solitary jests are narrated separately. Bartoldo prevails on a
watchman to open the sack in which he is lying imprisoned, and
to creep in himself, by pretending to him that he has only con-
cealed himself because he did not wish to marry a beautiful girl.
See Hagen's prefiice to Morolf, p. 19. There is something of the same
kind in the Irish story of Barbi/ Duly (K. v., K.,* 2, 23). The jest of
the peasant, the miller, the miller's wife and the parson, is even to be
found in the old German poem Der Kundige Kneht (Viennese MS.
428, No. 62). The servant tells a story about a wolf, and skilfully
alludes to the concealed sheep. See also Eyering (2. 430), and
Burkard Waldis. The story of Old Eildebrand, No. 95, No. 63, in
Prohle's Kindermdrchen, is aUied. In Danish there is Little Klaus
and Big Klaus, in Andersen, in Etlar, p. 134. From Vorarlberg, see
Vonbun, p. 36. In the Pentamerone, see The Godfather (2, 10), in
Straparola, Scarpajico (1. 3). As for the rest, the peasants — peasants
have been in every period of time easily betrayed — ^are clearly allied
to the Lalenbiirgers.

62. — The Queen Bee.

From Hesse, where we have also heard another story differing in
various ways. A poor soldier ofiers his services to the King, and
promises to win for him the most beautiful maiden. He is royally
equipped, and on his way, when he passes by a great forest, he
hears the song of many thousands of birds resounding deli2htfuUy
through the blue air. *' Halt, halt ! " cries he. " The birds must
not be disturbed ; they are praising their Creator ! " and he orders
his coachman to turn round, and drives another way. After this
he comes to a field where many thousands of ravens are crying
loudly for food. He has a horse unharnessed, killed, and thrown
lor the ravens to eat. At length he comes to a marsh where a fish
is lying pitifully lamenting that it cannot reach any flowing
water. The soldier himself conveys it to the water, and the fish
wags its tail with joy. When he comes to the princess, three tasks
are given him, which he must accomplish. In the first place he
must gather together again a peck of poppy-seed which the King
has had scattered. The soldier takes a me<isure, a sack, and
some white sheets into the field, and spreads out the sheets there.
Presently the birds whose singing he would not disturb, come, pick
up the seeds, grain by grain, and carry them to the sheets, and the
soldier sets before the King the peck which he has had scattered.
In the second place he has to fetch a ring which the King's
daughter has dropped into the sea. The fish which he bad placed
in flowing water brings him the ring from under the fin of a
whale, where it had fallen. Thirdly, he is to kill a unicorn which
has taken up its abode in a forest, and is doing great damage. The

* Sagen and Marchen von K. von Killinger. — Tr.

426 GRIMM'S HOUSEHOLD TALES.

soldier goes into the forest, and there the ravens which he rescued
from starvation are sitting, and say to him, " Have patience for a
little longer, the unicorn has only one good eye, and now he is lying
on it, and sleeping ; but if he turns round, and sleeps on the bad eye,
we will peck out the good one. He will then become furious, but,
as he will be blind, he will run against the trees in his fury, and stick
fast with his horn." Soon afterwards the animal turns in his sleep,
and then he lies on the other side, on which the ravens fly
to him, and peck out his good eye. He leaps up and runs against
an oak-tree and sticks his horn firmly into it. Then the soldier
cuts off his head, carries it to the Kmg, and receives in return for it
his beautiful daughter, whom he takes to his master, by whom he is
royally rewarded.

In Netherlandish, see The Grateful Animals, No 4. in Wolfs
Wodana. In Hungarian, see Gaal, No 8. In Persian, Touti-
Nameli, No 21 in Iken. A certain King dies and leaves behind
him two sons. The elder usurps the crown ; the second leaves the
country. He comes to a pond where a snake has caught a frog.
He calls the snake, which leaves hold of the frog, and it hops back
into the water. In order to compensate the snake, he cuts off a bit
of his own flesh. To show their gratitude for these benefits, both
the frog and the snake come to him in human form and serve him.
The prince enters into the service of a King, whose ring falls into
tbe water when he is fishing, and who orders the prince to get it
out again for him. The frog-man reassumes the form of a frog,
goes into the water, and brings out the ring. Soon afterwards the
King's daughter is bitten by a snake, and no one can save her from
death but the snake-man, who sucks out the poison from the wound.
Thereupon the King gives the prince his daughter to wife. And
now the two faithful servants take leave of him, and make themselves
known to him respectively as the frog whose life he had saved, and
the snake to whom he had given a piece of his own flesh to eat. See
the story of Livoret (3, 2) in Straparola. In the Jewish Maasdhhuch
(chap. 143 of Rabbi Chanina), the King first gets to know about the
Princess with the Golden Hair, by a smgle hair which a bird one
day (as in Tristan), lets fall on his shoulders, and which it has
plucked from her head while she was bathing. On his way Chanina
shows kindness to a raven, a dog, and a fish. The tasks set him
are to procure water from Paradise and from hell, and the grateful
raven brings a small pitcherlul from both places. Then he has to
get a ring out of the sea. The fish prevails upon Leviathan, who
has swallowed it, to spit it out on land, but in the meantime a
wild boar comes and swallows it. And now the dog attacks the
wild boar and tears it in two pieces, and Chanina again finds the
ring. The end is entirely different ; for instance, when Chanina has
brought the bride home to the King he is taken into high favour by

NOTES. — TALE 63. 427

him, and for that reason is murdered by the envious. But the
young Queen, who is very much devoted to him, sprinkles him with
the water from Paradise, by which he is immediately restored to life.
The King wishes to make a trial of this likewise, and orders one
of his men to kill him, but the Queen pours the water of hell over
him, by which he is immediately burnt to ashes. She says to the
people, " See, he was an impious man, or he would have been brought
back to life again ; " and marries Chanina. There are some more
details in Helwig. There is a certain amount of resemblance
to Ferdinand the Faithfid, No. 126. The story of the White
Snake, No. 17, is like this, and so is Soldier Lawrence in
Prohle's Kinderinarcheni No 7.

63. — The Thkee Feathers.

From Zwehrn ; but we have frequently heard the story in Hesse,
and there are usually variations in the three tasks which are set.
Thus the finest linen yarn is demanded, which is given to Dumm-
ling (Simpleton) by a spinning-maiden in a subterranean cavern ;
the most beautiful carpet, which she also weaves for him; and,
finally, the most beautiful woman. Dummling has to take a frog
and leap into the water with it, on which it changes into the
most beautiful girl. Or else a toad is given him, which he has
to place on the bench by him as his wife. From thence it springs
on to the table, then on the plate, and then, to the horror of all
who are dining with him, into the dish. It will only sit quietly
when on the salad. Then Dummling has to take hold of it, and
lay it in a bed, and then cut it straight through its heart with a
sharp sword ; something cracks, and a beautiful maiden is lying there,
who far surpasses the brides of the brothers in beauty. Afterwards
the father gives each of his three sons an apple, and the one who
throws it the farthest is to inherit the kingdom. The youngest
son's apple flies the farthest, but as be is quite too stupid, the
father will not let him have the power, and demands twenty score
yards of linen in a nutshell. The eldest travels to Holland, the second
to Schleswig, where fine linen was said to be, the third and stupid
one goes into the forest, where a nutshell falls from a tree, and in
it is the linen. Afterwards the father asks for a dog small enough
to jump through his wedding-ring, and then for three hanks of yarn
which will go through the eye of a needle, all of Avhich Dummling
brings. Or else it is that the one shall inherit the kingdom who
brings back with him the most delightful perfume. The stupid one
comes to a house where a cat is sitting outside the door, which
asks " Why art thou so sad? " "Alas, thou canst not help me ! "
* Come, let me hear ! Tell me what thou art in need of? " The
cat procures the best scent for him. The opening of the story is

428 geimm's household tales.

manifold — the father drives stupid Hans away, because he is too
stupid for anything. He goes to the sea-shore, sits down, and
weeps. Then comes the toad, who is an enclianted maiden ; at her
bidding he leaps with her into the water, struggles with her, and
wins himself the kingdom, whilst she thus regains her beautiful
human form. The Snake maiden in the Deutsche Sagen (i. 13) should
be compared with this. The storj' is to be found, pp. 271-286, in the
Brunswick Collection. In Biisching's, p. 268, Von der Padde.
In Zingerle, p. 348. In D'Aulnoy, La Chatte Blanche, No. 19.
It is also told in Swedish, in Cavallius, p. 300 (see further on).
In Norwegian, in Asbjornsen, p. 160. In Polish, Lewestam, p. 101.
In Albanian, in Hahn, 2. 166, 167. In Servian, in Wuk, No. 11.

For blowing feathers, which are to be followed, the Altd. Wdlderf
1. 91, should be seen. Aventin, in the Bavarian Chronicle, p. 98&,
says, " Thp^-e is a common proverb, which is generally used by such
as wish, or are obliged, to till strange lands. ' I will blow a feather,
and where it flies, I will follow.' " Indeed, at this very day, people
in Hesse say, " Which way will that man blow his feather ?
Whither will he go ? " Compare also Volundurs Lied, where
one brother goes east, the second south, and the third stays at
home. A similar custom was observed by the discontented Nor-
wegians who left their fatherland under Harald Harfager, and
emigrated to Iceland. It frequently happened that on approaching
the island the captain threw overboard a piece of a chair which
usually stood in the place of honour in the house. This fragment
was adorned with a carving of the head of Thor or some other god,
and the leader chose the place where it drifted to shore as the central
point of the tract of land of which he was about to possess himself.
But in the Persian Firdusi something of the same kind can be traced
(Gorres, i. 136). Sal went to descry the position of the enemy.
He shot one arrow straight up towards heaven ; he fixed spears
in three places ; and he shot three arrows across the stream, to
serve as signs to the army where to assemble and make the attack.

64. — The Golden Goose.

After a story from Hesse, and another from the neighbourhood
of Paderborn. This last has the following variations ; when
Dummling has shared his food with the little man, the latter says,
" Now lie down and sleep a while ; and when thou awakest thou
wilt find a sledge, to which a little bird is harnessed ; and when it
cries ' Kisi,' answer only * Keifes ; ' and then thou wilt see what will
happen." So Dummling lay down, for he was tired ; and when he
awoke, the sledge with the little bird was standing before him, and
lie seated himself in it, drove away, and came to a town. Three girls
however were looking out of the window of one of the houses, and

NOTES. — TALE 65. 429

they saw the sledge with the little bird ; and the eldest exclaimed,
" I must have that bird ! " but the youngest, who also wanted to
have it, could run quicker, and got first into the street, and tried
to grasp it. The little bird cried " Kisi ! " and Dummling
answered " Keifes," on which the girl stuck fast to the sledge, and
could not get loose again, but was forced to try to seize the
bird continually. And now came the two other sisters, and were
held fast. Dummling drove onwards, and they reached a great
piece of water, where many washerwomen were standing washing ;
and when they saw the girls they were angry with them for run-
nincr after the sledge, and ran up to beat them with their wooden
mallets ; but they too were held fast, and were still forced to try to
strike the girls. Then the parson and clerk came with the holy-
water vessel, and they too were made fast, and thus the band grew
greater, until Dummling arrived with it in the presence of the
king's serious daughter, who laughed at the sight, and whom he
now received to wife. The other tasks are not given. See The
Golden Duck, in Meier, No. 17 ; and No. 27 in Prohle's Mdrchenfiir
die Jugend. Compare the story, The Miller and the Cat, No. 106.
As in this story, every one sticks fust to the goose, or to those
who are touching it, so Loki sticks fast to the rod with which he
is trying to strike the eagle (Thiasse). The rod, however, sticks to
the eagle, and he is dragged away too {Younger Edda, Dames, 51).
Just as the sons are tested by seeing if they are disposed to share a
piece of cake, so Engelhart, in a poem of Konrad von Wiirzburg's,
has three apples given him by his father, and is to give one of
them to whomsoever he shall happen to meet; if the stranger eats
the whole of it without giving him a piece he is to avoid him, but
if the stranger gives him some he is to accept his friendship. The
third is the first to behave kindly. Compare in Wyss's Volhssagen
p. 321 ; and p. 22, the notes on the test by apples. A man who
can drink a pond dry, or eat many thousands of loaves, appears in
the Volksbuch of the Pomeranian Kunigund ; see the story of The
Seven Apprentices who get on in the World, No 71 ; and The Six
Servants, No. 134.

65. — Allerleirauh.

Consists of stories from Hesse and Paderborn ; the last varies in
some particulars. The maiden puts the mantle of all kinds of fur —
en which moss or whatever else she can pick up in the forest is sewn
— over the three bright dresses, and escapes into the forest. Then,
for fear of the wild beasts, she climbs up a high tree, and sleeps,
resting on the branches. In the morning some wood-cutters come
to get wood for the King's court ; they cut down the tree on which
Allerleirauh is still sleeping, but it falls slowly, so she is not hurt.
She awakes in a fright, but when she sees that she is among kind

430 geimm's household tales.

people she begs them to take her away with them. " Yes," they
say; "get into the wood-cart there, hairy animal." They drive
to the King's court, and she serves in the kitchea. As she has
made some very good soup, the King sends for her, and says,
" Thou ait indeed a pretty child ; come and seat thyself on my
chair." Then he lays his head on her lap, and says, " Comb my hair
a little." She does it, and henceforth has to do it every noon. One
day while she is doing it he sees her shining star-dress glittering
through the sleeve of her mantle, and tears it off; there she stands
as the most beautiful princess in the world. According to a third
story, from the neighbourhood of Paderborn, Allerleirauh pretends
to be dumb. The King one day strikes her with the whip,
and the fur-mantle is torn, and the gold dress shines through it.
The King makes the rent larger, and she is discovered. The
punishment of the father, too, follows in both stories. He himself
has to pronounce the sentence that he does not deserve to be King
any longer. A fourth story begins differently. Allerleirauh is
driven away by a step-mother because a foreign prince has given
a betrothal ring to her and not to the step-mother's daughter.
Afterwards Allei-leirauh arrives at the court of her lover, does
menial work, and cleans his shoes, but is discovered, as she lays the
betrothal ring among the white bread, as in another saga it is
put in the strong broth. (Musaus, 2, 188.) When the King will
marry no girl whose hair is not like that of the dead Queen, we
are reminded of an incident in the Fdroische Sage, where the
bereaved King will marry no one whom the dead Queen's clothes do
not fit. Sagahihliothek, 2, 481. There is a very flat version of the
story in one from the Zillerthal, Zingerle, p. 231. Compare No. 48
in Meier, and No. 10 in Prohle's Mdrchen fur die Jugend. The
story has some affinity to that of AschenpiiUel, and Perrault's Peau
(i'J.we belongs to this group; so does the story oiDoralice in Strapa-
rola (1. 4), especially the beginning of it. In the Pentamerone
see The She-hear (2. 6). In Wallachian, The Emperor's Daughter
in the Pig-stye, No 3 in Schott.

66. — The Hare's Bride.

From Bucko w, in the neighbourhood of Mecklenburg. It has
some affinity with Pitcher's Bird (No. 46). The enumeration of
the people at the wedding is taken from another version of the story,
and recalls the Wen dish comical song of The Merry Wedding^
(Herder's Stimmen der Volker, p. 139).

67. — The Twelve Huntsmen.

From Hesse. The incident of the first betrothed being for-
gotten is repeated in many stories (Dearest Roland, The Singing,

NOTES. — TALE 68. 431

Soaring Larh, &c.) We will only cite two memoraWe examples,
DuscliiDanta forfrets Sacontala, and Sigurd, Brunhild. See The
Servant^ in the Fentamerone (3. 6).

68. — The Master-Thief.

From Mtinster. There is a variant from Vienna. A master-
wizard tries to find a youth to assist him who can neither read
nor M'rite. He asks one whom he meets, " Canst thou read and
write?" " Yes," answers the youth. The wizard says, " If thou
canst read and write thou wilt be of no use to me." " Oh, you are
speaking of reading and writing ! " says the youth. " 1 misunder-
stood you ; I thought you were asking if I could scream and eat ;
and both these thmgs 1 understand thoroughly, but of reading and
writing I know nothing. The master-wizard thinks, " He will
suit me," and, as he likes him in other respects, he takes him.
The youth, however, was quick-witted, and knew very well how
to read and write, and was only pretending to be stupid. So he
remamed some time in service, and lent a hand in the wizard's
work, but whenever he was out of the way or gone out, the boy
secretly read the books of magic and learnt by heart the formulas
and rules. This continued until one day the master found him
reading one of the books, and saw what had happened. " Wait,"
cries he ; " thou shalt not escape me ! " The boy hastily utters a
powerful spell, becomes a bird, and flies away. The master as
swiftly changes himself into a bird of prey and pursues him. The
narrator had forgotten the series of metamorphoses which now
followed, but the sequel was that the youth proved cleverer than
the master, and whilst the latter was lying before him in the form
of a grain of corn, the youth took that of a cock, and swallowed
him, by which the magician was lost and annihilated.

There is another form of the tradition in Miillenhoff, No. 27, and
in Prohle's Mdrchen fur die Jugend^ No. 26. Incontestably the
finest is the story in Straparola, 8, 5, in the complete edition (see
further on) ; but the Danish in Etlar, p. 36, is also very good. In
Polish see the Danish collection in Molbech, No. 66, p. 66, and
Lewestam, p. 110. In Wallachian, The Devil and his Pupil^
Scliott, No. 18. In Servian, see Wuk, No. 6. The similar, though not
identical, transformations of the two magicians in the well-known story
in the Thousand and One Nights (1, 385, 386), should be remarked.
IL likewise occurs that one of the magicians changes himself into a
pomegranate, the seeds of which the other, who is in the form of a
cock, tears out ; hut, as he has overlooked one seed, the metamor-
phoses continue. Others are to be found in the stories No. 56, 76, 79,
and also in the Welsh saga of Ceridiuen (Mone, 2. 521.) in which at
last a hen devours the seed. Lastly, in Simplicissinfius (p. 212,

432 grimm's household tales.

235, Mompelg. Edition) similar, but seriously intended feats of
magic are related. Malagis likewise chances to find the magic
books of Baldaris, whom he has regarded as his father, and secretly
learns the art of magic from them. Once, when they are seated
at table, Baldaris enchants hares and rabbits, which run about
after each other ; then Malagis causes two beautiful greyhounds to
leap upon the table, which chase the little animals and tear them
to pieces. Baldaris enchants some water, and every one is com-
pelle 1 to wash his hands in it, but Malagis causes the water to
become black, and it sticks to them like pitch. (Heidelberg,
MS, folio 19b, 20a.) Compare with this the Hungarian story,
The Glass Hatchet (Gaal, No 3), where also from the one
animal another but a weaker one always arises, and the last is
an egg. In the Bohemian story in Gerle (p. 241) the evil spirit
changes himself from a dragon into an eagle, and then into a fly ;
but the fly is caught in the web of a spider, who is a good spirit, and
is by him devoured.

69. — JORINDE AND JoKINGEL,

From the Life of Heinrich Stilling^ 1, 104-108. A story told by
word of mouth from the Schwalm district varies very slightly.
There are two children who go into a great forest. The youth
stumbles on the castle of an enchantress, who touches him with
her wand and he is changed into a bird. The girl dreams of the
flower, and by means of it restores him to his human form. She
likewise touches the witch with the flower, and she is transformed
into a crow. The children return home; but once when they are
playing in the garden the crow comes flying to them, alio:hts on a
tree, and the girl brings the flower, touches the crow with it, and
thus restores the witch to her own shape.

70. — The Three Children of Fortune.

From Paderborn. Clearly allied to the Lalenbtirgers. The last
story of the cat is indeed extremely like what w^e find there (chap.
44). They have never seen a cat before, and buy it at a great price
as a mouse-dog, and set fire to the house in which it is, because they
believe it will devour man and beast (the vendor had said, some-
thing which they had misunderstood). In the chronicle of Albertus
von Stade we find p. 1946, the following, which is probably interpo-
lated ; " habitaverunt ibi [m Venice] a principio duo concives, unus
dives, alter pauper, dives ivit mercatum et requisivit a socio
mercimonium. * Non habeo,' pauper ait, ' prajter riuos catos,' hos
dives secum assumpsit et casu inter rem venit, ubi locum fere totuni
mures vastaverant, vendidit catos pro magna pecuuia et suo socio
per mercatum plm"ima comparans reportavit."

KOTES.— TALE 71. 433

In Servian see Wuk, No. 7. Whittington and his Cat, is an
English story of the same kind.

71. — How Six go Through the World.

From Zwehrn. A story from Paderborn is almost exactly ;ike
it. The description of the runner is taken from it ; in the Hessian
story, he had iastened a cannon to his leg to make himself go more
slowly. In the Paderborn story there is a Listener besides, who,
when he takes the stopping from his ears, can hear the dead under
ground singiuij:. A third story from the district of Schwalm is more
imperfect, but has some incidents which are special. In it
only four men go about together, the Listener, the Runner, the
Hower, and the Strong-One. The Runner fetches the game, the
Blower blows a blast which drives the people out of the villages, or
up the chimneys, and then takes whatsoever is to be found in their
houses — bread, meat, and eggs. The Strong-One carries these
things away, and the Listener has to be on the look out to hear if
the hussars are fallowing them. They go one day to the King's
court, and the King's daughter is ill, and can only be cured by a
herb that grows a hundred miles off, and must be procured in four-
and-twenty hours. It is made known that whosoever brings it
shall have as much treasure as he desires. The four comrades
undertake the task. The physicians describe the herb exactly, an<l
the Runner sets out. He brings it before the appointed time, and
the princess recovers. Thereupon the Kinof asks how much monjey
he wants to have? "As much as my brother (the Strong-One)
can carry." The King thinks, " He has some moderation," and
says, " Yes," with pleasure. The Strong-One makes himself an
enormous sack, sweeps up all the gold in the treasure-chamber,
but that is too little, and the King is I'orced to wive all that there
is in the whole kingdom. When the Strong-One has gone away
with his wealth, the King sends some hussars after him. The
Listener hears them coming, the Runner sees if it is true, and when
they have marched up, the Blower blows them into the air and
none of them are ever heard of or seen again. A popular book,
The History of the Pomeranian Maiden Kunigunda, who, after
many strange adventures, became a Queen (new and improved
edition, Elbing, 1804), consists of similar and in some degree
identical sagas. Kunignnda also has seven servants; Marrow-bone,
who is so strong that in an hour he cuts down a number of trees in
a forest, and wants to carry them away as well ; Birdswift, who
has bound his le.js so close together that he is only able to take
Bhort steps, otherwise he would ontrun the deer and hares and never
be able to catch anything; Sharp-shot who has bandaged his eyes,
because he sees too clearly, and can see all the game for four miles

VOL. I. 2 F

434 grimm's household tales.

round, so that at one shot he hits more than he wishes, and could
easily cleir all the country of game ; Fine-ear, who hears the
grass atd herbs crowing (Heimdallr hears the grass growing; in
the ground, and the wool growing on the hacks of the sheep, Snorra
Edda, p. 30) ; the Blower, who when he only blows a little can
turn fifty wind-mills ; Drink-all, who can empty out a pond ; and
lastly, Eat-all, who can eat up many thousand loaves. With these
seven servants, Kuuigiinda, disguised as a man, goes through many
kinds of adventures. She ties up a dragon, while Drink-ail drinks
up the pond where the monster quenched its thirst, and fills it
with wine, whereby the monster becomes drunk. After this she
wins away the treasure of a rich Emperor ; one of her seven servants
each time fulfilling the imposed conditions. Eat-all eats six heaps of
bread ; Drink-all drinks all the wells and the water that came through
the pipes in the city. A race too, as here, occurs. Bird-swift is
stupified with a strong drink, and falls asleep when he ought to be
running. His opponent is just reaching the goal when Fine-ear
listens, and hears the sleeper snoring two miles off; so Sharp-shot
shoots an arrow into the tip of his ear, which wakens him; he be-
thinks himself, starts up quickly, and runs so fast that with the
arrow still in his ear, he arrives first at the goal. Marrow-bone carries
away the treasure they have won ; they come to a river over which
they cannot carry it as there are no ferry-boats, but Drink-all drinks
up the river. The enemy's horsemen follow them, but the Blower
raises such a storm that all the boats sink, and not a single man is
left. Afterwards the servants quarrel, each declaring that he has
done the most, but Kunigunda pacifies them. The whole is inter-
woven with a love story. Kunigunda, disguised as a man, and
bearing the name of Felix, serves the King of Poland. A magician
who is favourably disposed to her, has sent her the seven servants,
and has also given her an excellent speaking-horse. She secretly
falls in love with the King ; the Queen, on the other hand, falls in
love with her ; and because she slights the Queen's love, the
latter forces all kinds of dansrerous enterprises on her. At length
the Queen accuses Kunigunda of having grossly insulted her.
She is condemned to death, but then her sex is revealed. The
Queen dies of poison, and Kunigunda becomes the King's wife.
An Arabian tale, in the continuation of The 1001 Nights by Chavis
and Cazotte, in the Cabinet des FeeSj 39, 421-478,* is altogether in

* It was believed to be not genuine, but afterwards Caussin de Perceval
found the Arabian manuscript which Chavis took as the foundation which
Cazotte repolished. From this source Perceval gives the stories in his
continuation of the Thousand and One Nights (usually the eighth or
ninth vol,), see preface to vol. viii. ; but this particular one is not found
among them. Chavis must, therefore, have borrowed it from another not
yet re-discovered Arabian MS., for its authenticity admits of no doubt.

NOTES.— TALE 72. 435

tlie spirit of one story. The leader is Eock-splitter (Trancliemont),
under whom Drink-all (Pretaboire), Sharp-eye (Percevue), Straight-
on (Droitaubut), Air-cleaver (Fendl'air), Strong-back (Bondos),
Cloud-grasper (Grippe-nuage), and the Blower (Grossitout), seven in
all, practise the arts which their names denote. The fact that they
are conquered in spite of these, and that the magician from whom
they have received this supernatural strength is annihilated, appears
to be a later and intentional alteration for the sake of the moral
application.

The story of the Six Servants (No. 134) belongs also to this
place. In Colshorn, see Peter Bcir, No. 105, and No. 8 and 31, in
Meier. In Miillenhoff, Rinroth, p. 453. In Wolf's Deutsche Sageriy
No. 25. Miinchhausen has used this comic saga in his unveracious
Travels (London, i.e. Gottingen, 1788, p. 84, and following), but
has on the whole told it ill. Thor and his servant Thialfi should
also be named here, as well as the enormous dinner of the giant, in
the Altddnische Lieder, when the bride devours whole oxen, and drinks
out of hogsheads. In Norwegian, see Asbjornsen, No. 24. In the
Fentamerone, The Simpleton, (5, 8) is allied ; and the story of the
Flea (1. 5) should be compared. In D'Aulnoy it is called Belle-
Belle ou le Chevalier Fortune, and translated into English form, has
come into the Tahart Collection.

72. — The Wolf and the Man.

From Paderborn. There is another story from Bavaria. The
wolf boasts to the fox that there is nothing in the world that he is
afraid of, and that he will devour a horseman, and his horse as well.
The fox in order to humble the wolf, whom he secretly fears, will
not believe this until he sees it with his own eyes. They conceal
themselves in the forest by the roadside. Two small weak men
seem to the fox to be too insignificant for the trial, but at last a
hussar, with a powerful sabre by his side, comes thither. " That is
the right one," says the fox, " thou must set on him." The wolf,
to keep his word, springs out and seizes the rider, but he draws his
sword out of the scabbard, strikes promptly, and mangles the wolf so
terribly that he has great difficulty in returning to the fox, " Well,"
&iys the fox, " how did the horseman taste? " " Alas ! " replies the
wolf in a feeble voice, " I should certainly have devoured him, if he
had not had a white tongue behind him, which he pulled out and
licked me with so terribly, that I never got to the eating." In an old
German 13th century poem (Keller's Erzahlungen, No 528), a young
lion appears. He asks his father if he has ever seen an animal stronger
than they. " Yes," answers the old lion, " and man is that animal."
A boy comes thither, and the old lion says, " He will be a man."
Then a grey-beard comes, and the old one says, " He, too, was once a

2 F 2

436 grimm's household tales.

man." And now comes a man who has a spear in his hand, and a
sword in his belt. The old lion says, *' Son, here is one of the kind
I spoke of to you." He warns his son not to go too near this one,
hut the young lion springs on him. The man attacks him with the
spear, and then draws his sword and cuts him through the back,
end he falls on the ground. The old hon comes up, and the young
one says to him, " The long tooth with which the man defended
himself was of hard steel, and then he drew a rib out of his side, and
dealt me this wound." *' There are many children like you who
will not obey their fathers and have to bear the consequence," replies
the father. The story is also known in Transylvania, see
Haltrich, No. 30. Franz von Kobel has treated it in Poems
in the Upper Bavarian dialect (Munich, 1846, p. 81). But the
Negroes also have the story. See Tlie Lion and the Huntsmany
Kolle, No. 9. Compare the notes to No. 48.

73. — The Wolf and the Fox.

From Hesse. Another story from Schweig, in the province of
Treves, contains nothing but the conclusion of the fox persuading
the wolf to creep through a narrow hole to drink his fill of milk,
and how, after the meal, the fox only returns, and the wolf, who is
swollen with eating, has to stay behind and is killed. A third
story from Bavaria, has also only this adventure, but after all the
wolf escapes with his life. He is thoroughly beaten, however, and
is ridiculed by the fox. A fourth from the neighbourhood of
Padorborn has also some special incidents. The fox invites the wolf
to go under a p<^ar-tree, and he will climb it, and shake down the
fruit to him. When the people hear the pears falling, they run to
the spot, and beat the wolf while the fox escapes. The fox also
invites the wolf to go fishing ; the wolf has to let his tail hang down
into the pond, and is frozen fast in it. At last, when in revenge,
the wolf is determined to devour him, the fox chatters to him about-
some delicious pancakes, which any one who will roll down the
mountain will alight straight upon. He himself rolls down, and as
he knows the situation of everything below, he brings a couple of
pancakes back with him. When they have consumed these, he con-
ducts the longing wolf to a particular part of the mountain, and
says he must roll down there. The wolf obeys him, but rolls
straight into the pond, and is drowned. The story from Tran-
sylvania, No. 3, in Haltrich is good. Horace, Up. 1, alludes to the
fable.

74. — Gossip Wolf and the Fox.

From German Bohemia. In Wendish, see Haupt and Schmaler,
No. 6. It is related with lively circumstantiality by Haltrich, No. 10,

NOTES. — TALES 75, 76. 437

from Transylvania. He calls it the central point of all tlie stories of
the fox and the wolf.

75. — The Fox and the Cat.

From Scbweig, in the province of Treves. There is the same saga
in an old German poem (Beinharf Fuchs, 363), in Nicolaus von
Strasburg (Franz Pfeifler's German Mystics, p. 293) ; also in Hans
Sachs (2, 4, 177, Kempten). A Latin story from a manuscript of the
15th century is communicated by W. Wackernagel in Hofmann's
Monatssclirift von undfilr Schlesien, 1829, pp. 471, 472. A sack filled
with wisdom occurs hereafter, in No. 175 ; and in a Negro story,
KoUe (No. 9), there is a sack in which reason is lying shut up.

76.— The Pink.

From Zwehrn. Another story, likewise from Hesse, begins
differently. The King intends to invite the first person whom he
meets, to be godfather. He meets a poor man, who at first refuses
to go with him, but follows at last, promises the child the fulfilment
of all his wishes as soon as he is eighteen years old, and then dis-
appears. A dwarf conceals himself beneath the table during the
christening, and hears everything. He steals the child, accuses
the Queen, whom the King causes to be walled up, and goes away
with it to a rich merchant, whose daughter he marries. When the
prince is eighteen years old, the dwarf is afraid, and wants to persuade
his wife to kill him. The remainder of the story agrees with ours,
only the dwarf's wife appears no more, and the transformation into a
pink is of course also wanting. In a third story from Hesse, there is
the following divergence ; the christening takes place in a church,
the godfather has stood out against any one else being present, but
the wicked gardener has stolen in, hears what gift has been
promised to the child, and steals it. He sends the child to a forester,
under whose care it grows up. The woc^dman's daughter becomes the
youth's sweetheart, whom he takes in the form of a pink, together
with the transformed poodle, to the King's court, where he serves
as huntsman. He puts the pink in a glass full of water in his
window, and when he is alone, he restores her to her hunian form again.
His comrades observe something, and persuade the King to ask for
the pink, whereupon the huntsman reveals that he is his son, and
everything comes to light. A saying in use among the people seems
appropriate here,

"If only my sweetheart a pink could be.
In the window I'd set him (her?) for all to see.*''

The song la the Wunderhorn (2. 11, 12), should be compared,

438 gkimm's household tales.

where a rose shut up in a room changes itself into a beautiful
maiden. The Myrtle in the Fentamerone (1. 2) is allied.

77. — Clever Grethel.

From a book, which in Northern Germany is certainly rare,
Ovum paschale, oder neuge/drhte Oster Ayr (newly-dyed Easter-
eiigs) (Salzburg, 1700, quarto, pp. 23-26) ; and from a Meistersong
in a MS. in the Berlin Library, German MSS., fol. 23, No. 5L
(formerly in the possession of Arnim), with the title, Inn des
Marners Hoff-fJion die vernascht maid, and beginning, '*Vor
kurzen Jarenn sase ein perckrichter im Johanisthal." In Hans
Sachs (2. 4,217b, Kempt: edit.) Die vernascht Kochin. Compare
Hagen's Gesammtabenteuer. No. xxxvii. and notes vol. 2. See
Pauli's Schimpf und Ernst, folio 65. We believe that we have
also heard the story by word of mouth.

78. — The Grandfather and the Grandchild.

Stilling relates the story thus in his Life (2. 8, 9), as we also
have often heard it, and it occurs in the Volkslied aus dem
KiXhldndchen ♦ (Meinert, 1. 106). It is also related that the
child gathered together the fragments of the earthen platter, and
wanted to keep them for his father. An old Meister song (No. 83,
in Arnim's MS.) has quite a different version of this fable, and
gives a chronicle as its source. An aged King has given his
kingdom to his sou, but is to keep it as long as he lives. The son
marries, and the young Queen complains of the old man's cough.
The son makes the father lie under the stairs on the straw, where
for niany years he has to live no better than the dogs. The
grandson grows big, and takes his grandfather meat and drink every
day ; but once the old man is cold and begs for a horse-cloth The
grandson goes into the stable, takes a good cloth, and angrily cuts
it in two. The father asks why he is doing that. " I am taking
one half to grandfather, the other I am gomg to lay by to cover
you with some dav." A different treatment of this is contained
in Zwey schone Neue Lieder (Nuremberg, Val. Neuber), in the
Meusebach Library. It begins :

**Zu Rom ein reicher Konig sassf
Als ich etwan gelesen das,"

* Kuhlandchen is a small, narrow valley near the source of the Oder,
lying between the slopes of the North Carpathian, and the Troppauer
mountains. Meinert says that nature and mankind have specially
devoted it to the rearing of cattle, and that the grass grows in such
profusion that it seems to spring up even beneath the plough. — Ta.
■j" In Rome there reigned a wealthy king,
As I somewhere have read.

NOTES. — TALE 79. 439

and concludes

" das niemandts sein Eltea verschmeht*
warnt treulich Jorg Brentel von Elbogen."

In Hans Sachs, see the Half Horse-cloth, 2. 2, 107, 108.
Nuremberg edition. Wunderhorn, 2. 269. See an old German
story, tJie Knight with the Bug, in Lassberg's Liedersaal, 1. 585.
Another form of the story is to be found in the Kolotz MSS., p. 145,
and in Hagen's Gesammtdbenteuer, 2. 391. A third by Hufferer
is in the same place, 3. 729. An old French Fabliau (Meon. 4.
479, 485) varies only slightly. The son, at the instigation of his
wife, drives away his old father, who begs for a coat, which the
son refuses ; then for a horse-cloth as he is trembling with cold.
The son orders his child to go with the old man into the stable and
give him one. The grandson cuts it in half, of which the grandfather
complains. The grandson, however, excuses himself to his father on
the ground that he must keep half of it for him, when he drives him
out of the house. Then the son reflects, and takes the grandfather back
into the house with all honour. Some stories formed on this by
Niccolo Granucci, Sercambi, and the Abbe Le Monnier are pointed
out by Hagen, Gesammtahenteuer 2.' Ivii. In Pauli's Scherz und Ernst
(1535, see chap. 412. Folio 77. In the Danish, Lystig Shiemt og
Alvor, p. 73, the grandfather begs for a new coat, and the son
gives him two yards of stuif to patch the old one with. Thereupon
the grandson comes crying because he too wants two yards of stuff-
The father gives them to him, and the child hides them under a
lath in the roof, and then says he is storing them up for his father
when he grows old. Then the other bethinks himself, and behaves
better. The following lines from a poem of Walther's should be
quoted :

*' die jungen habent die alien s6 verdrungen,f

nu spottent also dar der alten !

ez wirt in selben noch behalten;

belt unz iuwer jugent zerge :

swaz ir in tuot, daz rechent iuwer jungen."

23, 36.

79. — The Water-Nix.

From Hanau. It is a pursuit of the children by the witch, as
in the story of Dearest Boland No. 56 ; she is at the same time
Frau Holle, and the wicked one who makes people spin entangled

* Let no one despise his parents

Is the faithful warning of Jdrg Brentel von Elbogen.
t The young have so repressed the old, and now they scoff at the old.
It will be stored up against you till your youth fades away. Whatever
you do to them your young ones will avenge it.

440 gkimm's household tales.

flax, and gives them stones to eat instead of food. For the whole,
compare J. Grimm's Irmenstrasse.

80. — The Death of the Hen.

From Hesse. It varies a little in the Kinderlieder in the third
vol. of the Wunderhorriy p. 232-6. According to a Bavarian
tale, the cock runs to the spring and says, " Ah, spring, do give
me some water, that my hen may not be choked." The spring says
" I!ll give you no water until you so to the lime-tree and bring
me a leaf." The lime-tree says, " I'll give you no leaf until you
go to the bride and bring me a ribbon." The bride says, " I'll give
you no ribbon until you go to the hog and bring me a bristle."
The hog says, "I'll give you no bristle until you go to the miller
and bring me some bran." The miller says, *' I'll give you no
bran until you go to the larmer and bring me a dumpling." Then
the farmer gives him a dumpling, and he satisfies every one, but
arrives too late with the water, and weeps himself to death on
the grave. According to another story, when the little hen is
going to be buried, all beasts who are i'riends with them — the
lion, wolf, fox, &c. — get into the carriage. When it is time to
drive off, the flea comes also and begs to be taken in, as he is
small and light, and will not make the carriage heavy. But
his weight is too much, and the carriage sinks in the mud.
See stories from Swabia, in Meier, No. 71 and 80; and from
Holstein, in Miillenhofif, No. 30; from Transylvania, in Haltrich,
No. 44; Norwegian, in Asbjornsen, p. 98. There is a Danish
popular tale about the Cock Mountain and the Cock Marsh
Antiquarian Annals^ 1. 331.

81. — Brother Lustig.

Individual parts of this story are told as if they were separate
tales, and the connection is almost always more or less weakened.
Here we have followed a story which was taken down from the
lips of an old woman in Vienna, by George Passy, and is the
most complete and lifelike ; but the following incident, which was
wanting in it, has been supplied from a very similar but much
less valuable story from Hesse, viz. that Brother Lustig, after he has
eaten the heart, is tested by St. Peter by means of the water which
rises as far as his mouth ; which still does not bring him to the point
of confession. In this latter, too, it is to be remarked that the
soldier brings forward a foolish reason for the lamb's having no
heart, namely, because it was a black lamb. The Amim MS. Meister
songs contain No. 232, a poem of the year 1550, which belongs to this
group. A trooper comes to St. Peter, and they agree to divide with
each other what they earn, the latter by preaching, the former by

NOTES. — TALE 81. 441

begging. The trooper hastens to a village where a church is being
consecrated, and begs both sleeves full. St. Peter cures the mayor
of a fever, who gives him thirty gulden and a cheese for doing it.
Both meet in an inn ; the trooper shows the food he has got, and
asks St. Peter how much he has made by preaching. He brings out
his cheese. " Have you only got a cheese ? " cries the trooper. St.
Peter orders the innkeeper to serve a roasted fowl. The trooper goes
into the kitchen and eats its liver. When it comes to table, St. Peter
says to the trooper, " I do believe thou hast eaten the liver ! "
The trooper protests that he has never seen it. Then St. Peter
pulls out the thirty gulden, divides them into three parts, and says,
" The man who ate the liver shall have the third portion ! '*
Whereupon the trooper immediately sweeps up the money. The
story in the Wegkilrzer (by Martinus Montanus, Strasburg, date not
given, but probably in 1551) is much better. The Lord and a merry
fellow from Swabia are travelling together. They arrive at a village
where the bells are ringing for a wedding and a funeral at the same
time. The Lord goes to the latter and the Swabian to the former.
The Lord awakens the dead man, for which a hundred gulden are
given him. The Swabian fills the glasses at the wedding, for which,
when it is over, he receives a kreutzer. Satisfied with his reward
he goes away, and when from afar he sees the Lord, he holds up his
little kreutzer and shows it off. The Lord laughs at it, and shows
him the bag with the hundred gulden, and the Swabian adroitly
throws his little kreuzer in among them, and says, " In common ! in
common ! we will have all in common." Then the lamb is killed,
and the Swabian eats its liver, and says afterwards, " I declare to
God that it had none ! " They come to another village, where
the bells are again ringing for a wedding and a funeral. And now
the Swabian wants to bring the dead man to life again, and earn
the hundred gulden, and says if he cannot do it they shall hang
him without a trial ; but the dead man does not stir. He therefore
is to be hanged, but the Lord comes, and says if he will confess that
he ate the liver, he will save him. The Swabian however insists on
it that the lamb had none. The Lord says, " I will restoi-e the
dead man to life, and set thee free if thou wilt tell the truth." But
the Swabian cries, " Hang me ! Hang me ! It had none ! " W hen
the Lord sees that there is no moving him, he brings the dead man
to life again and sets the Swabian free. Then he divides the money
into three portions, and the Swabian cries in a moment, " By God
and all the Saints, I did eat it." 1'here are other stories in the
Buchleinfiir die Jugend^^o. 9, pp. 180-186. In Prohle's Kinder-
marchen, No 16 ; in Meier, Nos. 10, 62, 78. In Croatian
in Yogi's Grossmiitterchen, p. 27. The proverb, "The Swabian
must have eaten the liver all the same," which is quoted in the
Zeitvertreiber (1668), p. 152; and in Berkenmeyer's Anti^uarius

442 geimm's household tales.

(Hamb. 1746), p. 549, refers to this. So does an allusion in
Keisersberg, " To take the liver out of the roast meat ; " and Fiischart
in FlohhatZy 35" has

" But I am innocent of this,
Yet I must have eaten the liver.
And have done that great wrong."

82. — Gambling Hansel.

From Weitra in German Bohemia. We give a variant from the
neighbourhood of Miinster, in the patois in use there. Hans
Lustig was a rich man, but had gambled away all that he had in
card-playing and now had to sufler evil days. It came to pass that
the Lord and St. Peter were on earth and went to his door and
knocked, and said, " Good evening, Hans Lustig, may we spend
the night with you?" "Why not?" said Hans Lustig, "If you
will be content with what I have, but my wife and I have nothing
but one bundle of straw ; if you are willing to lie on that, you shall
have it." " Why not ? " said the Lord and Peter, so they sat down
and talked of old times. St. Peter said, "Hans Lustig, we are
thirsty, fetch us a jug of beer, here is some money." That was
what Hans Lustig liked. When he came to the inn, he heard
them playing cards and played with them once more, and in an
instant his money was lost. " What shall I do now ? " thought he,
" Now 1 shall get no beer for those people who are waiting at home,
and are so thirsty." He went home and said that he had had a fall
and had broken his pitcher. Then St. Peter said, " For this time
I will give you more money, but see that you get a pitcher full, for
we are terribly thirsty." " How shall I be able to do that," thought
he, " if they are still playing at cards ? " He went away with bis
pitcher, stopped his ears so that he could not hear the playing, and
came back safely to the house with the beer. When the Lord and
St. Peter had drunk it, they felt hungry. "What am I to do?"
said the woman, "I have no flour; 1 must bake a pan-cake of
ashes." So they sat down together and ate something, but Hans
Lustig always spoke of card-playing, and how delightful it was, and
thus he talked until it was time to go to bed. The Lord and St.
Peter lay upon a bundle of straw, and Hans Lustig and his wife by
the fire. In the morning when they arose, and the Lord and St.
Peter were about to go away, the Lord gave Hans Lustig three
things ; a pack of cards with which he would win everything when
he played with them ; dice with which he would win everything
whenever he threw them; and a fiddle which when be began to
play on it, would make every one unable to stir. Hans Lustig once
more began to gamble merrily, and won everything. He bought

NOTES. — TALE 82. 443

back his house and yard, and always carried his cards and fiddle
about with him. At last he became ill, and Death came, and said,
" Hans Lustig, thou must die." " Oh," said he, " Good Death, but
first gather me some fruit from the tree which stands in front of my
door." When Death was in the tree, Hans Lustig began to play the
fiddle, and Death was unable to stir from the tree. Then once
more he played merrily with the cards and dice, but one of his
relations died and he was forced to go to the funeral. When he
was buried, Hans Lustig prayed a very devout Paternoster. " So ! "
said Death, " I have been on the watch to hear thee pray that ;
now, thou must go." Hans Lustig died, and knocked at the door of
heaven. " Who is there ? " " Hans Lustig." " Thou must go to
hell." When he got to hell, he knocked. "Who is there?"
" Hans Lustig." " What dost thou want here ? " " To play at
cards." "For what wouldst thou play, then?" "For souls."
Hans Lustig played and won a hundred souls. He took them up
on his back and knocked at the door of heaven. " Who is there ? "
" Hans Lustig with a hundred souls, and not one less." " No, you may
just go away again." He went back to the door of hell and knocked.
" Who is there ? " " Hans Lustig who wants to play for souls again."
He again won a hundred souls, and again went away with them to
heaven, and knocked. " Who is there ? " " Hans Lustig with two
hundred souls, neither less nor more : just let me have one peep of
heaven." So St. Peter opened the door of heaven, and then Hans
Lustig threw his pack of cards in. " Oh do let me get my pack of
cards back," said he, and he is sitting on his cards to this very
day.

That this Bohemian and the Low German story are connected
with the foregoing story of Brother Lustig is manifest; in the latter
the name is even the same. The Youth who went out to learn
how to shiver, No. 4, also belongs to this group. A Hessian
stoiy from the Schwalm district unites together all three. A poor
soldier who has taken in some wayfarers, and shared his black bread
with them, receives in return a purse which will never be empty,
then a knapsack into which everything that he wishes inside it
must go, and thirdly, eternal happiness. The soldier comes to a
village where dancing is going on, the inn-keeper's pretty daughter
refuses to dance with him, he goes away in a bad temper and meets
the Devil, who promises the soldier to change the girl's heart to him
so that she shall marry him, and for that the soldier is to give a
written promise to be the Devil's property in ten years. The
soldier consents, marries the girl, lives happily for a year or two,
and has as much money as he wants. Then it occurs to him that
the King has never given him a pension which he has earned,
and he goes to demand an explanation. The guards will not let
him in, but he always wishes them in his knapsack, and gives

444 grimm's household tales.

them a good beating. The King readily consents to let him live
in his palace, and eat and drink with him, but secretly hopes to get
rid of him, and persuades him to pass a night in a haunted castle in
which, up to that time, every one has lost his life. And now the
story passes into that of the Youth who went out to learn how to shiver.
See notes to that story. He overcomes all the spirits by wishing them
in his knapsack. Thus he frees the castle, and discovers a great treasure
which he shares with the King. When the ten years are over, the Devil
comes, the soldier gives him his child and obtains ten years more.
When these are over the Devil comes again, but the soldier wishes
him in his knapsack, and now he has him captive. He makes six
peasants who were in a barn thresh him furiously; and, not content
with that, goes to a smithy where the blacksmith's men have to heat
the knapsack red-hot and hammer it out. The Devil is so bruised,
that in order to be free, he is glad to promise never to come back
again. In the meantime the soldier sees that his end is approaching,
and orders his purse and knapsack to be laid in the coffin with him.
When after his death he comes to the door of heaven, St. Peter
will not allow him to enter. It is true that eternal happiness had
been promised him, but he had pledged himself away to the Devil.
The soldier goes to hell, but the Devil is terrified, and he too will
not let him enter. He goes back to heaven and entreats St. Peter
to open the door just wide enough to let him have one peep inside.
Hereupon he throws his kuapsack in and wishes himself inside it,
and then he is in heaven. The hammering out the Devil which
occurs here carries us on to another form of this wide-spread saga
according to which a smith himself is the bearer of it. First there
is a story from Tachau, in Grerman Bohemia, in the dialect peculiar
to that place.

Once on a time when the Lord Jesus and St. Peter were on
earth, they came to a village where no one lived but very rich
peasants. They went from house to house to ask for a lodging,
and everywhere the door was shut in their faces. At last they
came to a blacksmith's, who was a merry fellow and not
particularly pious, an<i he invited them to come in. They ate and
drank, and at day-break when they rose, the Lord told the Smith
that he might ask for three things, but that he was not to forget
his poor soul, and wish for nothing but temporal things, lest the
Devil should some day fetch him. " Let the Lord look after that,
for me," said the Smith ; " and as you are so good as to grant me
three wishes, I wish in the first place that my cherry-tree out there
in the garden may always go on bearing cherries, and that whoso-
ever climbs up it, may never be able to come down until I permit-
him. Next, I wish that whosoever sits down in my chair there,
may never be able to get out of it until I am willing. Lastly,
that no one who creeps into my stove shall be able to get out-

NOTES.— TALE 82. 445

ef it.'* The Lord performs what he has promised, but threatens
the Smith with hell for being so frivolous, and goes away with St,
Peter. The Smith lives merrily until at last the time is up and he
has to die. Then the Devil comes to his room and tells him that
he must go with him to hell. " Well, then, if it must be so," says
the Smith, " I will go with you ; but be so good as to go out and
climb up my cherry-tree and gather some cherries, that we may
have something to eat on our way." Without more ado the good
Devil climbs up the tree and picks cherries, but cannot come down
again. Then the Smith bursts out laughing, and lets the Devil
struggle for a long time in the tree until he promises him that he
will never take him away to hell if he will but let him. come down
from the tree. The Smith releases him from it, and the Devil goes
home to hell, and tells what has happened to him. After a while
another Devil comes to the Smith, and says that he is to go away
with him immediately, and not to imagine that he can overreach
him as he had overreached the first. " Ho ho ! " says the Smithy
" You need not be quite in such an hurry as that ; just wait until I
have made myself ready, and in the meantime seat yourself on that
chair there." This Devil also allows himself to be persuaded, seats
himself in the chair, and is not able to get out of it again, until he,
like the first, promises to go back to hell alone. When the Devil
returns to Lucifer, bringing no Smith with him, Lucifer is angry,
scolds the Devil, and says, " Now, I will go myself and bring the
Smith, and in the mean time, open the door of hell until 1 come
with him." Lucifer goes to the Smith, and is about to seize him at
once and carry him away. But the Smith says, " Oh, Lord Lucifer,
I should have come away at once with your devils if I had not
been ashamed. Do not you yourself think it will be a disgrace to
me if the people see that the Devil is fetching me ? I will go to hell
most willingly, but that no one may see you taking me, creep into
my stove, and I will take it on my shoulders and carry you into
hell ; it will be a hard task for me, but no harm can happen to you
inside it." Lucifer thinks what he says is true ; and says to himself,
" I can get out of this stove when I like, it will" not hold me fast." He
creeps in, the Smith takes it on his back, and as he is going through
the workshop, he takes the largest hammer with him and walks con-
tinually onwards on the road to hell, as Lucifer directs him from the
stove. When they are not very far from hell, the Smith puts the
stove down on a stone, takes the great hammer, and hammers away
most terribly at Lucifer. He cries, " Murder ! Murder ! " and con-
stantly tries to get out and cannot. But the Smith goes on beating
him, and the louder Lucifer cries, the harder the Smith strikes. At
length, when the Smith thinks that he has had enough, he opens
the stove-door, and lets him out. Lucifer runs off to hell as fast as
he caji, and the Smith runs after him with the big hammer. Wh^n

446 Grimm's household tales.

the devils hear Lucifer screaming, and see him running, they are
terrified and run into hell, and Lucifer runs after them and calls to
the devils to shut the door of hell quickly behind him, and stop
the Smith coming in. In their fright they do not know what kind
of bolt to put into the door, and one of them quickly thrusts in his
long nose instead of a bolt. The Smith thinks, " As they will not
let me into hell, I will go straight to heaven." He knocks at the
door of heaven, and when St. Peter comes to the door and sees the
good-for-nothing Smith outside it, he is just going to shut it again,
but the Smith squeezes himself into the opening and begs St. Peter
to let him have just one peep inside. St. Peter lets him look in a
little, and then says he is to pack off at once. But when the Smith
is once inside, he throws down his leather apron, sits down on it,
and says, " Now I am sitting on my own property, and I should
like to see any one turn me out." There he is sitting still ; and, my
dear friends, shall we not be astonished when we get there and see
him?

Another story from Hesse runs as follows. The Smith
has by his loose life become quite poor, and goes into the forest
to hang himself on one of the trees ; but a man with a long beard,
who has a book in his hand, meets him, and says, "Write thy
name in this, and thou shalt have ten years of prosperity, after which
thou wilt be mine." " Who art thou ? " asks the Smith. " I am the
Devil." " What canst thou do ? " " I can make myself as tall as a
fir-tree and as small as a mouse." " Then let me see thee do it."
The Devil exhibits himself as very large and very small, and the
Smith inscribes his name in the book. From this time forth he
has money in abundance. After a year or two the Devil comes, is
satisfied with him, and presents him with a leather bag, which has
this property, that whatsoever goes into it cannot get out again
until the Smith himself takes it out. When ten years have expired,
the Devil appears to take his property into his own possession
again. The Smith seems to be ready, and goes out with him, but
demands that the Devil, as a proof that he is the right one, shall
exhibit himself before him in a large shape and a small one. When
he changes himself into a mouse, the Smith seizes him, puts him in
the bag, and cudgels him so soundly that he is quite willing to tear
the page with the Smith's name out of the great book, if the latter
will but take him out of the bag again. Full of rage he goes back
to hell, and the Smith is free, and lives happily as long as God
permits. When he becomes ill and sees that his death is near, he
orders two good long-pointed nails and a hammer to be laid in the
cofifin with him. When he arrives on high, he knocks at the door
of heaven, but St. Peter will not let him in because he had made
that compact with the Devil. The Smith turns back, and goes to
hell J but the Devil does not want him, because he is sure to do

NOTES. — TALE 82. 447

nothing but make an uproar. The Smith now becomes angry, and
makes a great noise, and a small devil is curious and puts his nose a
little out of the door. The Smith quickly seizes it, and with one of
his nails, nails it to the door of hell. The little devil screeches like
a lion's whelp, and a second comes and peeps, and the Smith seizes
him by the ear, and takes the other nail, and nails him by the first
devil. And now the two scream so terribly that the old Devil
himself comes running thither, and is so enraged at the sight that
he begins to cry with anger, and runs to God and entreats him to
take the Smith to himself, for he is nailing up his devils by their
noses and ears until he himself is no longer master in hell. In
order to get rid of the Devil, God and St. Peter are forced to take
the Smith into heaven, and there he is now in rest and peace.

A third story from Hanover also has its peculiarities. A horseman
came to a Smith who had become so poor that he had no longer any
iron or coals, and wanted to have his horse shod. The Smith said
he would first borrow some iron and coals in the nearest village. " If
that is all thou art in need of," said the horseman, " I will soon
help thee, only thou must sign this page with thy blood." The
Smith agreed to this without any difficulty and went into the room,
scratched his finger, and signed it. When he came out again, the
yard was filled with iron and coals. He shod the horse, and the
horseman rode away again ; but the Smith obtained large custom,
and soon became a rich man again. One day after this a man came
riding on an ass and had it shod. When that was done, the
stranger said, " I have no money, but wish for three things and
they shall be granted unto thee." So the Smith wished for a chair,
in which whosoever sat down should remain sitting ; for a pear-tree
from which no one who had climbed up should be able to come
down without he ordered him to do so ; and a bag endowed with the
same property. The man on the horse was the Devil, but the one
on the ass was St. Peter. When the Devil came and showed the
Smith the page which he had signed, and wanted to take him away
as his property, the latter made him sit down on the chair, and
horsewhipped him until he flew out of the window. He lured the
second devil up the pear-tree, and the third into the bag, and drove
them both away with blows. When the Smith saw that his death
was drawing near, he ordered those near him to tie his leather apron
round him. He knocked at the door of hell, but the devils would
not have him. He came to the door of heaven, but St. Peter also
refused to admit him ; he allowed him, however, to look in. Then
the Smith threw his leather apron into heaven, seated himself on it,
and said that he was sitting on his own property from which no one
could drive him.

A fourth presentment of the saga from Southern Germany
is contained in the following book, Sittlich und Seelen nutzlich

448 grimm's household tales.

Beise nach Bethlehem, von E. P. Attanasy von Billing, (Sulzbach,
1700, qto.), p. 153, communicated in tlie Curiosities of Vulpius,
3. 422, 425). Ckrist and St. Peter enter into the house of a
"blacksmith. His aged wife entertains them to the best of her
ability, for which the departing guests wish her all good things, and
promise her that she shall enter the kingdom of heaven. Christ
wishes to show his gratitude to her husband also, and grants him
four wishes. In the first place the Smith wishes that no one shall ever
be able to descend from the pear-tree behind his house against his
will ; secondly, that no one who sits on the block of his anvil shall be
able to get up again unless he gives him permission ; and in the
third place, that no one shall ever be able to get out of the flue of his
stove unless he is willing. St Peter is angry at these requests, for
he had expected that the Smith would ask to have his salvation
assured ; being reproached by St. Peter, the Smith however wishes,
in the fourth place, that his green cap may always remain his own
property, and that whenever he seats himself upon it no power may
be able to drive him away from it. When Death comes to the
Smith, he entices him to climb the tree, and does not let him descend
again until he promises him a respite of twenty years. The second
time he sets him on the block of the anvil, and obtains another
twenty years. The Devil comes for the third time, and then the
Smith gets him to go into the flue of the stove, and then he and his
apprentices hammer him to their heart's delight, so that, howling
terribly, the Devil promises that to all eternity he will never have
anything to do with the Smith. At length his guardian-angel
Gomes and conducts him to hell. The Devil peeps through the small
window-pane, shuts it in a great hurry, and will not let him in.
Then they go to heaven, where St. Peter also will not allow the
Smith to enter. He begs to be allowed to have just the least little
peep inside that he may see what it is like. Hardly, however, is
the door opened than he throws in his cap, and says, '* It is my
property and I must fetch it." But once inside, he seats himself on
the cap and then remains in heaven.

A fifth story from the neighbourhood of Miinster makes the story
a local one and the Smith live at Bielefeld. The conclusion has
only one or two special incidents, as for instance, that the Smith
when turned away by the Devil also goes for the second time to
heaven, and stands by the door to see how the blessed ones are
admitted by St. Peter. A horseman comes with boots and spurs
and wants to go straight in, but the apostle says to him, "Dost
thou suppose that men force their way into the kingdom of heaven
with boots and spurs; thou must wait?" Then a pious maiden
appears, and to her St. Peter at once opens the door, and the Smith
makes use of the opportunity, and throws in his leather apron after
her, " Why art thou throwing thy dirty leathern apron into

NOTES.— TALE 82. 449

heaven ? " says the apostle. " I will fetch it out again," says the
Smith, " if it is too bad for you." But when he is in heaven he
spreads it out behind the door and seats himself upon it, sayin?,
•' Now I am sitting on my own property, and will not stir from
it." The apostle says, " After all he has done much good to the
poor with his money, so he may stay and sit behind the door."

A sixth story from the neighbourhood of Paderborn like-
wise speaks of the little Smith of Bielefeld. The Devil has in his
presence to make himself as large as an elephant, and as small as a
mouse, and the Smith catches him and thrusts him into his glove,
out of which he is not able to come, and then he hammers him on
the anvil. Afterwards the devils will not let the Smith into hell, and
keep their door shut with iron bars. St. Peter also refuses to let him
into heaven, so he hovers between heaven and hell like Gambling
Hansel. In the seventh place follows the Saga of the Smith of
Jilterhock, which is very well given in the German-French which still
prevails in some places. (Leipz. edition of 1736, pp. 110-150
Nuremberg, 1772, pp. 80-95). The pious Smith of Jiiterbock wore
a black and white coat, and one night readily and kindly entertained
a holy man, who, before his departure, permitted him to make three
requests. In the first place, he begged that his favourite seat by the
stove might be endowed with the power of holding fast every
unbidden guest until he himself set him free ; secondly, that his
apple-tree in the garden should hkewise hold fast those who should
climb up it ; thirdly, that no one should be able to get out of his
coal-sack whom he himself did not release. Some time afterwards
Death comes. He sits upon the chair, and in order to get up again
is obliged to bestow ten years more life on the Smith. When this
time of truce has expired. Death comes again and climbs the apple-
tree. The Smith calls together his apprentices who beat Death un-
mercifully with iron bars. This time he is only released on
condition that he will let the Smith live for ever. Full of trouble
and lame in every limb. Death slowly departs. On his way he
meets the Devil and laments his sorrows to him. The Devil mocks
him, and thinks he himself could very easily manage the Smith. The
Smith, however, refuses the Devil a night's lodging ; at least, he will
not open the house-door, but the Devil may creep in throuc^h tlie
keyhole. That is easy to the Devil, only the Smith has held the coal-
sack m front of it, and ties up the sack as soon as the Devil is
inside it, and then has it well beaten out on the anvil. When they
have wearied themselves to their hearts' content with knockin^^ and
hammering, the poor belaboured Devil is set free, but has to° find
his way out by the same hole by which he crept in.

Eighthly, there is a similar saga of the Smith of Apolda (compare
Talk's Grotesken, 1806, pp. 3-88), who lodged our Lord and St. Peter
all nisht and received the gift of three wishes. In the first place ho

VOL. I. 2 G

450 grimm's household tales.

wished that the hand of any one who went to his bag of nails should
remain sticking in the bag until it fell to pieces. Secondly, that whoso-
ever climbed into his apple-tree should be forced to sit there until
the apple-tree mouldered away ; thirdly, in the like manner, that who-
soever sat down in the arm-chair should not be able to arise from it
until the chair fell to pieces. One after another three evil spirits
appear who want to carry off the Smith, ail of whom he lures into
the traps which he has set for them, so they are forced to give him
up At lencrth, however. Death comes and forces him to go away
with him, but he obtains the favour of having his hammer laid in
the cofBn with him. When he comes to the door of heaven, St.
Peter will not open it, so the Smith knows what to do, and goes to
jell makes a key, and promises to be handy and useful with all
kinds of work in heaven ; to shoe St. George's horse, and do things
of that kind, until at last he is admitted.

In the ninth place, there is a story from the Wetterau, communi-
cated by Professor Wigand. The Smith tempts the Devil to climb a
pear-tree from which he is to bring down a couple of beautiful golden
pears for him, but in which he is held fast. In order to be able to
descend, he has to promise the Smith ten years more. When the Devil
reappears, the Smith begs him just to fetch him a riail from his nail-
box, that he may nail something firmly, but the Devil s hand sticks fast
in the box, and he is not released from it until he has promised the
Smith twenty years more. When this time, too, has gone by, and the
Devil presents himself, the Smith makes him sit upon a seat from
which he is not able to rise until he gives the Smith entire freedom.
Hereupon the Devil vanishes, and takes the whole of the roof of the

house with him. ^ . r j.-u

Lastly, in the tenth place, there is a Bavarian saga of the
Smith of ]\litterbach, see Schmeller's Bavarian Dialects, 4yd-4:Jb,
and Panzer's German Mythology, p. 94 ; this also has a cherry-tree
from which no one can descend, a seat on which every one must
remain siitinc^ unless the Smith wills otherwise ; and lastly, a bag out
which no one can come without the Smith's leave. To this group
also belong a story in Kuhn, No. 8 ; one in Colshorn, No. 89 ; in Prohle s
Kindermarchen, Nos. 15 and 16 : in Zingerle, p. 43 ; a Netherlandish
«tory in Wolf's Wodana, iso. 2 (compare the notes, p. 54); and
a Norwegian, No. 24, in Asbjornsen. Kopitar relates, from his
childish recollections of Krain, a t^aga of Sveti Korant. He had an
enchanted tree, and whosoever climbed into it could not come down
a<Tain by means of which he tricked Death for a long time. When
at length, he died, the Devil would not admit him into hell, and held
the dSor fast, but the nails on the Devil's fingers projected, and
Korant the Smith bent them back, and nailed them last till the Devil
screamed loudly for mercy. 'Ihen the Smith went to heaven,
where St. Peter also would not allow him to enter. Korant, how-

NOTES. — TALE 82. 451

ever, saw his mantle, which he had once given to a poor man, lying
inside, and jumped upon it, crying, " I am on my own land and
property." Compare Keller in the Introduction to Li romans des
sept sages, cLXXxni. and following, and Hans von Biihel's, Diocle-
tian, p, 54.

The printed popular book entitled, Das his an den jungsten

Tag wdhrende Elende (The History of Misery who will live to

the Day of Judgment), or as it appears in the French translation,

Histoire nouvelle et divertissement (divertissante ? ) cZw hon homme

Misere (Troyes, chez Gamier), agrees for the most part with the story

already given in the dialect of Hesse. On the other hand, however,

many circumstances point to an Italian origin for this last story, or

at all events, De la Eiviere heard it related in Italy. The Apostles

Peter and Paul arrive in very bad weather in a village, and stumble

on a washerwoman who is thanking heaven because the rain is

water, and not wine ; they knock at the door of a rich man who

haughtily drives them away, and are taken in by poor Misery.

He only makes the one wish with respect to the pear-tree, which

has just been plundered by a thief. The thief is caught, and so are

other people besides who climb up out of curiosity to set the

lamenting thief free. At length Death comes, and Misery begs him

to lend him his scythe, that he may take one of the finest pears away

with him ; Death, like a good soldier, will not let his arms go out of

his own hands, and himself undei'takes the task. Misery does not

set him free until he has promised to leave him in peace until

the day of judgment, and this is why Misery still continues to live

on for ever in the world. A fragment from the district of the

Maine may be here quoted because it is conceived in the same spirit.

The Devil comes to fetch away a certain man who has pledged

himself to him, and whose time is up. At the same time, he brings

with him a number of carts laden with old shoes. " What

are they?" asks the man. "These shoes have been worn out

by my spirits in thy service, but now thou art mine," replies the

Devil. But the man desires to see the hand-writing in order ^ to

recognize it himself, the Devil comes nearer to show it, on which

the man approaches it with his mouth, snatches at it and swallows

it, and thus he is freed. Lastly, we must remark that Coreb and

Fabel in the Merry Devil of Edmonton (Tieck's altengl : Theater 2),

are clearly the characters of our story.

Here is a very perfect instance of the wide circulation and living
diversity of a saga. Of its antiquity there can be no doubt ; and if
we see, in the smith with his hammer, the god Thor, and in Death
and the Devil, a clumsy monstrous giant, the whole gains a well-
based antique Norse aspect. We find references to it among the
Greeks also, where the crafty smith is the • cunning Sisyphus in a
Rtv:)ry which has been preserved by old Pherekydes, and which must

-152 grimm's household tales.

have been known to the singer of the Iliad. Zeus, angry with the

aged Sisyphus, seizes the opportunity to fetter him with strong

bands, and then no one can die. See Welker on Schwenk's

Etymological Mythology, Hints, pp. 323, 324. Gruber's Mythological

Diet. 3. 522. Com]iare also the Jewish Days of David, and Deaths

Helvicus, 1, No. 12. The story of the Poor Man and the Rich

One, No. 87, is clearly related to it. (Compare the note). There a

good and a bad man made the good and bad wishes. Here a

middle-state is depicted. The smith is both good and bad, spiritual

and worldly, for which reason he wears a black and white coat. He,

in his poverty, gladly entertains the Lord, and stops his ears that

he may not for the second time gamble away the money intended

for a refreshing draught, and is good-hearted, but sometimes

thoughtless. On this account, he is at length allowed to enter into

heaven, or, in the more severe instance, placed between heaven and

hell. This ending connects the story with the saga of the

lansquenets who can find no place in heaven, which is told by Frei

in the Oartengesellschaft, No. 44, and by H. Kirchhof, in

Wendunmut (1. No. lOd). The Devil will not have them because

they bear the red cross on their standards, and St. Peter also will

not admit them because they were bloodhounds, robbers of the poor,

and blasphemers against God, The captain however reproaches St.

Peter with his own treachery to the Lord, until the apostle becomes

red with shame, and shows them a village called " Wait a while,"

between heaven and hell, where they sit and gamble and driuk.

With this story are connected many others of St. Peter and the

lansquenets. Wolfs Zeitschrift fiir deutsche Mythologie, 2. 3, shows

how Gambling Hansel belongs to the stormers of heaven. A seat

from which no one who has sat down on it can arise again, is

already known in the Greek Saga; Hephoestushad such a one made

for the witch : see Gruber's Mythological Diet. 2, 57, notes. The

cunning which the Smith uses against the Devil in order to catch

him while prevailing on him to take the form of a mouse, occurs

also in the Story of the Spirit in the Bottle, No. 99, and in the

French Bluebeard.

83. — Hans in Luck.

Communicated by Aug. Wernicke, in the Zeitschrift WiXnschel-
ruthe, 1818, No. 33, from oral tradition. It reminds us of the
comic tale of Block and the tailor Bock {Wunderhorn, 2. 347).
Block bought seven yards of cloth for a coat, then it was to be made
into a doublet, then a pair of trousers, tlien stockings, gloves, a
thumb-stall, and at last a girdle ; but Block did not even get
this out of it. It is to be found in Zingerle, p. 152, but with
another ending, according to which the bargain turns out to the
advantage of Hans. In Norwegian, see Asbjorusen, p. 105. A
Cornish story of Ivan belongs here. (See further on).

NOTES. — TALES 84, 85. 4o3

84. — Hans Married.

From Pratorius's WilnscJielruthe, pp. 148, 149, we have often
heard the boast founded on the bridegroom's bright farthing told
as a joke. The question, " Did you also go to the wedding?" and
the answer to it is added from oral tradition. Such jests are
often used as conclusions to the stories when they fit them.

85. — The Gold Children.

From the Schwalm district in Hesse. It is in tt^e main the
story of the Two Brothers (No. 60), but with a distinctive begin-
ning, which links it with the story of the Fisherman and his Wife,
No. 19. There is another story in Sommer, p. 113, from Thuringia.
TTie notes to No. 60 belong to this also. The marvellous birth, and
the complete resemblance of the brothers, appear in this story also.
The knife which, in No. 60, is stuck in the tree as a token, is here
a lily, as in the story of the Three Little Birds, No. 96. Com])are
the notes on that story. But we find a similar belief and custom
in an Indian popular song. Shortly after his marriage, the husband
has to leave his beautiful young wife. He plants a Kewra (spike-
nard, lavender) in the garden, and bids her observe it closely, and
as long as it is green and full of bloom all will be well with him,
but if it wither and die, he will have met with some misfortune.
See Broughton's Selections from the Popular Poetry of the Hindoos
(London, 1814), p. 107. Also in the Persian Touti Nameh (Iken,
No. 4), the wife gives her husband a wreath of flowers to take
away with him, and as long as it is fresh she has remained faithful
to him, but if it withers she has begun to be untrue.

[In Straparola's Enchanted Hind, when Cannelora is departing,
his friend Fonzo asks him for a token of his love. He sticks his
dagger in the ground and a fountain rises up from the place, which
he tells him, will by the state of its water always indicate the con-
ditions of his life ; and plunging his sword into the ground, he
causes a myrtle to shoot up which will always do the same by the
appearance of its leaves and foliage. Keightley's Popular Fictions.
— Tr.]

Mr. Max Miiller says (^Chipsfrom a German Worhshop), "There
is in the popular traditions of Central America, the story of the
two brothers, who, startins: on their dangerous journey to the land
of Xilalba, where their father had perished, plant each a cane in the
middle of their grandmother's house, that she may know by its
flourishing or withering whether they are alive or dead. When a
Maori war-party is to start, the priests set up sticks in the ground
to represent the warriors, and he whose stick is blown down is to
fall in the battle. In Biitish Guiana, when young children are

454 geimm's household tales.

betrothed, trees are planted by the respective parties in witness of
the contract, and if either tree should happen to wither, the child it
belongs to is sure to die." — Tr.]

86. — The Fox and the Geese.

From the neighbourhood of Paderborn. In a beautiful fable,
No. 87, in Burkard Waldis, the Goose begs to be allowed to dauct^
once more to her heart's content; as also in Prohle's Marchen
fur die Jugend, 3. It is also told in Transylvania, see Haltrich,
No. 20. It is a puzzling story, which is lold instead of the more
usual one of the shepherd, who wants to take several hundred sheep
across a wide river in a small boat, in which there is always only
room for one. Cervantes has, as is well known, used this very well
in Don Quixote, vol. i. chap. 20 ; and Avellaneda has tried to out-
do him in his continuation, chap. 21, by a similar story of th^
geese which cross a narrow bridge. It is intrinsically much older.
Petrus Alfonsus told it in the Di'.ciplina clericali>i, p. 129, and
Schmidt in the notes gives further information It is to be
found in the Old French Castoiement, (Meon's Fabliaux, 2. 89-91)
and in the Novelle Antiche, No. 30. Also in a pretty Low Germai:i
poem in Haupt's Zeitschri/t, 5. 469-512. A similar saga lies at the
foundation of jEsop's orator Demades (Furia 54, Coray, 178). Tht^
proverb, "If the Wolf (here it is the Fox) teaches the geese tc
pray, he devours them for school fees," refers to this (Jailer, p. 60).,
and so does Ofterdingen's speech in the Kriegaufder Warthurg (MS.
2, 5a), ("sie,)liant gense wan so si den wolf erkennent undewelkn!
uz den ziunen gan." *

* Geese are deluded creatures, for when they see the wolf they wish it
get out of the hedge.

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